


Nova Luna

by CherryBlossomTree13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt Remus Lupin, Love Triangles, Original Character(s), POV Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, Suspense, Thriller, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Werewolf Remus Lupin, Young Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-23 08:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16155458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomTree13/pseuds/CherryBlossomTree13
Summary: Utterly destitute, Remus Lupin lives a solitary, hand to mouth existence until he stumbles upon a job at a local Muggle grocer's. While struggling with his lycanthropy and a mysterious bout of accidental magic, Remus comes to find that the small, unsuspecting store may be more than what it seems. Lupin x OC





	1. PROLOGUE

* * *

  **PROLOGUE**

* * *

 

The naked Lycanthrope paced back and forth across the cold concrete floor, his bare feet leaving temporary prints upon the gleaming surface while he clutched the tattered shawl around his shoulders tightly.

Only a few minutes left until the moon rose and his transformation began, but a strange flutter deep within the pit of his stomach told him there was something wrong.

He stopped his pacing to run both shaking hands through his sandy hair; pre-lunar nerves at an all time high despite having gone through the process hundreds of times before.

Regardless, the pain never lessened.

1 minute to go.

His heart was beating a mile a minute and he had to exhale through his mouth to keep from hyperventilating, praying that the adrenaline would take some of the edge off when his bones began to break.

But all of a sudden, a completely different feeling caught his attention.

A faint, prickling sensation nipped at the centre of his chest, wordlessly warning him that something was interfering with the protective wards around the house.

He told himself that it was nothing more than an overly curious fox looking for food, and for a moment he thought he'd been right. But when an invisible thread began pulling beneath his ribcage, he knew it was no animal.

A series of sharp stings followed as he felt his various spells and charms snap and break, exposing him to the innocent, outside world and plunging him into a full blown panic.

Sweating profusely as the bile burned the back of his throat, the man frantically searched for anything to incapacitate himself with when he heard the unmistakable sound of his front door creaking open.

30 seconds left.

Half paralyzed with shock and fear, the Werewolf could think of nothing else except to run head first into the wall and pray to Merlin that it knocked him out.

But before he could make a move, the basement door began to turn and with a blinding flash of light, it swung backwards to reveal the figure of a person who peered in and tossed at him a mirthless smile and a piece of cloth.

15 seconds.

Before he could even react, the intruder spun around and dashed away, the loud crack of Apparation providing the Lycanthrope the faintest trace of relief until his nostrils filled with an oh so familiar, mouth watering scent.

He clearly saw the fabric which had been thrown in and nearly began retching, a thick ball of hopelessness and fear choking him.

The powder blue blouse speckled with tiny purple flowers which  _she_  had worn on their first date laid strewn on the cold cement floor; the perfect scent trail for a bloodthirsty monster.

5 seconds.

Panic flooded every nerve as he could do nothing except lunge for the shirt and try to throw it as far away from himself as possible.

1 second.

But as he gripped the soft cotton, memories of her bright smile filling his head, his fingers began to break.

A blood curdling shriek rang through the empty basement as the excruciating transformation began.

Minutes passed and the man had disappeared.

In his place a monster whimpered, momentarily rendered motionless by the aftershock of havimg its bones and muscles reset so viciously, when an intoxicating scent filled its short snout, clouding its savage mind and ensnaring its senses.

A low whine escaped the beast's throat as it nuzzled the cloth, salivating over the tantalizing smell before it caught sight of the open door. Bounding up the stairs in a streak of dark fur, the Werewolf made its way outside, howling under the glowing, full moon before beginning its search for the source of the maddening aroma - for its next kill.

* * *

**Yorkshire, England**

**June 22**

* * *

 

Remus Lupin stood glaring at the neatly stacked rows of tinned beans in utter despair. The lacklustre cans wrapped in brilliant blue packaging promised "great quality and great taste," but the penniless wizard knew better.

He could almost taste the metallic legumes, drowning in cheap tomato sauce as he flung three cans into his basket with disdain.

Mentally tallying up his bill, Remus trudged towards the bakery. The faint hum of the harsh fluorescent lights were broken only by the sound of his worn out loafers tracking across the tile.

He fingered the handful of loose change in the darned pocket of his trousers and sighed loudly, wondering if he'd have enough to spare for a toffee.

It had been over three months since his last source of income, and money was tight - more so than usual if that were even possible - which was why he found himself shopping at a Muggle grocer's. One galleon was barely enough for a couple of chocolate frogs in Diagon Alley, but here he could get a weeks worth of beans on toast for the same amount.

He knew he shouldn't be complaining, but at this point, Remus was ready to give up a working limb for a proper scrap of food - or better yet, a proper wage.

Perhaps he would take another look at the Ministry's job board tomorrow; get his name back in the queue. A small voice at the back of his head told him it wouldn't make a difference since they'd never hire someone - no - _something_ like him.

Sighing through his nose while trying his best not to stare at the tantalizing array of fresh meat, Lupin finally made it to the wall of packaged breads at the back of the store.

His olive green eyes did a quick scan of the bright yellow price tags, climbing ever higher until he found the cheapest brand nestled securely on the topmost shelf.

Thankful for his tall build, he reached up and plucked a single loaf from its perch with ease, watching as a small cloud of dust danced in the air at the disturbance.

"I reckon you wouldn't even need a stool to reach those crates up there."

The voice almost made Remus jump out of his skin as he turned on the man, nearly snarling.

A small, slightly balding Muggle adorned in a bright red apron was standing before him, blue eyes studying the wizard up and down with sudden interest.

"You wouldn't fancy a job here, would you?"

* * *

**Tinsley's Tally**

**June 25**

* * *

 

Remus shifted uncomfortably, his arse sore from sitting on an unevenly padded chair in the tiny, air conditioned office of the store owner.

Numerous awards and certificates were strewn across the stark white walls, and what he had been unable to squeeze upon the alabaster drywall was shoved into a large pile in the corner.

Each award was decorated with the same man; small, slightly balding and positively beaming out from under a pair of thick, black spectacles.

The same man who now sat in front of Remus, rattling off the code of conduct as though it were something he rehearsed in his sleep.

Terrance Tinsley, owner of Tinsley's Tally, had graciously offered Remus work as a shelf stocker - a position which in reality, the Hogwarts graduate was far too overqualified for.

But he didn't care. He would finally be able to buy fresh food! Fresh fruit, vegetables and sweets!

Even fresh meat…

The prospect nearly made him dizzy with excitement.

"Any questions?" Terry asked politely, turning his round face up towards Remus.

The tall, ungainly wizard shook his head confidently as though he had been listening and tried to shift his weight in the chair once more, eager to start his new job.

A muscle in his back tightened painfully in protest at the movement and Lupin stiffly sank back into the chair, conceding defeat to his aching joints.

Despite only being 26, Remus knew his body was deteriorating at a much faster rate than he cared to admit. Something which was rather common among those who shared his...affliction.

"Excellent! Welcome aboard!"

Tinsley reached over to shake Remus' hand in congratulations. His blue eyes shining with genuine warmth as he gave his newest employee a satisfied look over.

"Much obliged, Terrance," Lupin responded earnestly.

I wonder how eager he'd be to take that hand if he knew what it belonged to.

The sneering voice that appeared a week before the full moon now seemed to be whispering into his ear, trying to lure the beast from its slumber…

Remus gave himself a slight shake.

"Ah! Almost forgot!" the man snapped his fingers before he dove into a cardboard bin next to his desk. The sound of crinkling cellophane filling the air as he pulled out a bright red smock sealed neatly in a clear plastic bag. Smiling widely, Terry tossed the pristine garment over to Remus who caught it with ease.

"Don't forget, that's your uniform, and you wear it proudly! Now let's go show off my new recruit to the rest of the team!"

Lupin blanched at the thought of being paraded around the tiny grocery store, forcing introductions with Muggles he would invariably do his best to avoid.

Terrance seemed to sense his reservations, but smiled toothily at him. "I promise, they won't bite."

The small Muggle turned swiftly on his heel and marched out the door, but had Terry stayed just a moment longer, he would have seen the blood drain from Remus' face at his poor choice of words.

* * *

Author's Note:

As a mom of two little ones under the age of 3, I have little time to myself, but whatever chance I get you can find me writing. I've wanted to do a Lupin fanfic for ages now and have finally been able to piece things together. I will have new chapters up every 2 weeks or so, but in the meantime, I really hope you enjoy my work so far

Please remember to leave your lovely, motivational reviews :-*


	2. The Pastry Chef

After twenty minutes of awkward hellos and handshakes, a flurry of names and faces he had already forgotten and an embarrassing trip over an uneven patch of tiles, Remus was eager to head home.

Smoothing out the creased apron over his chest impatiently, he glanced at the tattered wrist watch that hung, one size too big, off his arm.

**2:48**

Still three hours before he could run off towards the shrubbery behind the store and apparate home.

Lupin Cottage was a tumbledown, semi-derelict building that sat on an enormous stretch of land, surrounded by nothing save an immense forest and a thin, winding river for miles on each side. Not to mention Ministry grade Muggle Repelling and Protection Charms.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

Remus pictured his deep blue, moth eaten sofa in the den. It called out to him, urging him to waste away within its warm confines along with good book and a hot cup of tea.

But alas - books and tea would do little to satisfy his near constant hunger.

"Ah yes," said Terrance suddenly, as though he could read minds. "If you're ever peckish go ahead and help yourself to some fruit - don't eat it out in the open, mind you."

Terrance tossed a bright green apple in Lupin's direction, which was gratefully tucked into the front pouch of his brand new smock before they strolled past the neatly stacked pyramids of Granny Smith's, oranges and melons.

"Let's see, what else…" Terry clapped his hands together and began rubbing them under his nose as though trying to start a fire. "Oh, June! Come here a bit, would you?" The scatterbrained man, now completely distracted, called over to a small figure who had slipped out from the aisle ahead. By the way her shoulders slumped at the sound of her name, Remus expected she had hoped to sneak past them unnoticed.

A young girl with blonde hair came trudging towards them, her blue eyes nearly invisible under the jet black shadow which had been inexpertly smeared across her lids. She had a small, pointed face and was loudly smacking a piece of gum between her teeth as she pulled up in front of the two men, hands placed on her hips.

"June, this is Remus, our new shelf stocker!" Tinsley declared proudly, brandishing the slightly smiling wizard towards her as though announcing the Minister of Magic himself.

June was far less impressed by him. She gave him a quick look over, eyes lingering on the patchwork clearly visible on his trousers before raising a thin eyebrow up at him in distaste. A bright pink bubble blew out from between her lips and popped loudly.

Lupin simply smiled at her and held out his hand. He was used to being treated like the walking plague, so anything short of running and screaming was fine in his books.

The young Muggle stared at his hand, one of the few places on his body that was not ravaged by scars, and blew another pink bubble in reply. "Charmed," she said through a thick Irish accent, even though she sounded anything but.

Remus shrugged and pocketed his greeting, not bothered in the slightest by the girl's attitude - he didn't blame her for not wanting to take his hand. Terrance however, looked mortified. He gave June a reproachful look. "This _young_ lass," he started, adding an emphasis on her blatant lack of maturity, "is one of our cashiers…"

But at that moment a familiar, wonderful aroma filled the wizard's nostrils and the two people in front of him ceased to exist. He turned his nose up to sniff the air like a dog who had just caught scent of its favourite treat, stomach rumbling in response.

_Cinnamon… nutmeg…a dash of cloves_

It was unmistakable; apple pie.

Half expecting to see his mother with her warm smile and purple flowered apron rounding a corner with his favourite Sunday night dessert, Remus frantically searched the store for the source of the smell. But the longer he looked, the more painfully the aroma tugged at his heartstrings. Visions of his parents swam before his eyes, of their warm embrace and kind smiles. Memories of home, friends and family - of happier times filled his head like a swirling school of fish. But what once brought him great joy, now only served as a stark reminder that he was completely and utterly alone.

His green eyes prematurely gave up their search for the pastry, but just as he turned his head, his eyes caught on something.

A short ways from the wall of packaged breads where Terrance had first offered him the job, was an open style kitchen with a massive display of confectionery out front. A large brick oven with blindingly polished door handles covered the entire back wall (no doubt also the source of the pie) and a white granite counter surrounded the rest of the small space.

However, what held Remus' gaze was not the inordinate amount of chocolates on display, or the rainbow coloured macarons teetering on fancy pedestals, but the woman who currently stood in the middle of the kitchen.

She was...extraordinary.

Lupin felt an involuntary sigh escape his lips as he watched her work; she was rolling out a thick slab of dough as though it were the most important job in the world, her dark brows furrowing intensely as she bobbed up and down, kneading the pastry. A tendril of black hair had escaped her hairnet and she blew out of the corner of her mouth to keep it from her eyes, wrinkling her pointed nose as the rogue curl tickled her sun-kissed skin.

She suddenly stopped her rhythmic pressing, stepped back from the counter and stretched her arms over her head. The action inadvertently drawing his gaze to her well defined breasts...

"Remus? Remus!"

Terry's voice was like a bucket of ice water, making Lupin jump a foot in the air as though he had been voicing his indecent thoughts aloud. He turned to acknowledge the pair before him with red, glowing ears.

Terrance seemed concerned, but June stared at him as though he were mad. She followed his gaze over to the bakery, blue eyes flicking back onto him like a whip as they narrowed shrewdly. "Looks like he'd rather be chatting wit' someone else."

Tinsley snapped his head over, spotted the woman and broke out into a huge grin. "Oh yes!" He squeaked with excitement, nearly jumping out of his well polished shoes. "Come, come - Almost forgot to show you my favourite part of the store!"

June's eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head.

Remus would have smiled at the balding Muggle who was now halfway towards the kitchen, but he could feel his heart beating faster in trepidation- he didn't want to be introduced to her. She would take one look at him and see him for the disgrace that he was.

"You daft or something?" June's Irish accent broke through his internal debate as she watched him remain motionless, staring after Terry with a pained look on his face. "You're supposed to follow 'im; little miss _perfect_ won' leave her kitchen for the likes of you."

Without sparing so much as a glance at the indignant teenager, he decided to follow after his manager amidst the bitter muttering that came from behind him.

The son of Lyall Lupin barely took five long strides before he was right behind Tinsley, his bald patch gleaming like a beacon under the white lights as the intoxicating smell of fresh pie became stronger and stronger with every step. His heart pounding faster and faster as they approached her…

_Turn around. Tuck your miserable tail between your legs and run. She doesn't want to look at a monster like you..._

"Working hard, or hardly working, eh Neoma?"

_Nee-oh-ma._

Remus' stomach lurched at the sound of her name. He swished it around his head like a glass of fine sherry, letting each syllable coat his thoughts with its sweet aftertaste.

The girl stopped working, the faintest trace of a frown tugging at the corner of her mouth as she set down the enormous rolling pin in her flour caked hand.

She looked up, dark eyes absorbing the pair as a contemplative expression settled on her dusky features. She eyed him curiously.

Lupin felt sick under her gaze.

_Smile. Wave at her. No! Don't get too friendly...Merlin - Do something!_

He wanted to play it cool and flash her a grin but instead remained nonplussed, gaping at her like an idiot.

"Terrance, what can I help you with?" She asked politely, her attention had returned to the small store owner who was leaning against the pristine glass cooler, beaming down at the cakes and pies that littered the shelves like an expectant child.

"Neoma dear, I would like to introduce you to someone very special." Lupin stared in abject horror as Terry built up the introduction. He could see her smile fondly at the man, but her eyes looked fatigued, as though Terry were an old nut whose ramblings she'd been forced to sit through one too many times.

"Hmm, and who could that be?" Her smooth, deep voice - although very English - had a strong American accent, as though she'd spent several years abroad.

"None other than this strapping young lad…"

_Oh God, please stop._

He reached over and pulled a grey faced, stumbling wizard towards the counter. "...Remus Lupin, our very new shelf stocker!"

Standing this close to her was like staring into the Sun. Her beauty was nearly blinding and he couldn't tell if he was actually squinting or if the adrenaline coursing through his body was simply clouding his vision.

She offered him a weak smile, but Remus barely noticed - he wanted to duck behind the counter and hide, feeling more and more like an animal under her steady gaze. But the seconds ticked by in silence and Remus could only imagine what she saw before her; a pallid, sallow faced bean pole with greying hair and more disfigurements than she could count.

Like June, Neoma gave the quivering man a quick once over. But unlike the other girl, her almond shaped eyes flitted carelessly over his shabby clothing, instead lingering on the massive scar that stretched diagonally across his now scarlet face.

He caught her staring and ducked his head in shame, and she immediately looked away as a shroud of awkward silence settled over them.

Of course she would notice his imperfections first, they were disgusting and horrible - just like him.

_Just turn and bolt out the door, you can find another job elsewhere._

But before he could make a move, Neoma wiped her palms on the front of her dirty red smock and extended a hand in greeting.

"Very nice to meet you, Lupin."

She was smiling a bit too wide - although careful not to show her teeth, he noticed - obviously still feeling guilty for her previous scrutiny.

"Please, call me Remus," the man blurted breathlessly, a near hysterical tone to his voice

The girl smiled again and nodded once, "Remus," she confirmed, her hand still hanging in the air before him.

He could feel something deep inside him begin to bubble and spark, slowly working through his limbs until it felt like he would give off electricity.

Was this excitement? Desire? Happiness? He didn't know, but there was another force working just as hard within him, and that was the crushing weight of self-loathing and guilt.

He didn't want to mar her outstretched palm with his hands which would soon be huge, hairy paws clawing at his own skin.

"Do they not shake hands where you're from?" Neoma asked facetiously, raising a feathery brow.

Remus felt his ears grow hot all over again, a goofy grin involuntarily spreading across face as he threw caution to the wind. The strange feeling of electricity was growing stronger and stronger within him as he carefully clasped her hand in his.

_**CRASH - BANG - WHOOSH!** _

Everyone jumped in unison at the commotion, turning around in disbelief to see bags of pita breads exploding in every direction, crates of garlic toast tumbling down the shelves and packages of profiteroles zooming across the bakery.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Terrance squealed. "What the bloody hell is going on?!"

Remus immediately realized what was happening and took a deep, calming breath, forcing the crackling magic back down into the depths of his being.

Instantly the animated foods fell to the floor, as though a dozen invisible strings holding them had been cut.

Like the calm before a storm, a deafening silence filled the entire store and then a stampede of footsteps and frantic yelling.

Lupin was grey faced and shaking, the single piece of plain toast he'd eaten for breakfast suddenly threatened to reappear.

He turned with utter remorse towards the dumbfounded store owner as though the wreckage before them had spelled out his name. But then he remembered - with a wave of overwhelming relief- that he was in the presence of Muggles. Whatever had happened, he was as unlikely to get blamed as was the rest of the staff.

But just what the hell _had_ he _done_?

Remus dared to steal a glance at the woman responsible for his accidental outburst of magic.

Neoma looked just as gobsmacked as Terrance - her pretty, brown eyes wide as dinner plates as she scanned the aftermath, her small mouth hanging open in awe.

Before he could ask if she was alright, a mob of store employees and straggling shoppers appeared and began gasping or murmuring vague questions.

Remus ran a shaky hand through his sandy hair, trying to take control of his emotions, now definitely wishing he could go home.


	3. The Grey Lady

Remus had his head down, chipped handle of a wooden broom in his hands as he swept to and fro, clearing the remaining crumbs of bread from the otherwise spotless floor.

He had immediately volunteered to clean the mess, knowing it was the least he could do to atone for his outburst. But a few of the younger employees sniggered at his eagerness, no doubt assuming the newest employee was trying to kiss arse in front of the boss.

He didn't care though - he was going to finish his shift, thank Terrance and then leave Tinsley's Tally, never to return.

He couldn't risk another bout of accidental magic like that. Especially since whatever had triggered his magic to lash out was as much of a mystery to him as it was to the confounded Muggles.

The wizard kept glancing furtively at the front doors, half expecting to see a team of Obliviators charging through, wands raised and ready to clear the memories of the entire staff.

"No, no - It's best we just leave it. If it happens again, we'll call Health and Safety."

He could hear Terrance over his shoulder, tapping the top of his balding head as though a few good whacks might help him figure out what caused the ruckus.

"Need any help, Remus?"

Lupin's heart skipped several beats at the sound of the familiar voice. He wanted to melt at the smooth lilting of her accent around his name and set fire to his trousers at the same time for letting himself become so affected by a pretty stranger.

"N-No I'm alright, thank you," he mumbled unsteadily, olive green eyes never leaving the floor.

Either not hearing him or simply not caring, Neoma picked up the empty blue crates which previously held green and silver bags of garlic toast, and began stacking them on top of each other.

"I wonder what made the pita bags explode like that...maybe they were fermenting," she pondered aloud, wiping her hands on the front of her black trousers before picking up a bag of shredded bread. "Or maybe it was magic," she added, smiling wryly.

Remus gulped.

"There's no such thing as magic," he offered weakly, eyes still locked on the ground.

He heard the woman snort loudly and nearly choked on his own laughter.

"Of course there is - just because we can't see it or understand it, doesn't mean it's not real."

_Definitely a Ravenclaw._

He smiled at the floor and tried to picture Neoma in the blue and bronze of Rowena's house...a sudden flutter in his stomach at the thought of her in a Hogwarts uniform.

Clearing his head with a shake, Remus nonchalantly began sweeping as far away from the woman as possible.

"Oi, Loopy, you missed a spot there!" June (who looked like a raccoon from this distance) called out, earning a few chortles from the two boys who stood beside her. But to the young girl's disappointment, Remus smiled widely at hearing his old school nickname used so naturally. He nearly expected to see Peeves the Poltergeist floating in front of him. "I don't see what's so funny," the Irish teen challenged, suddenly smacking on her gum once more.

"Well, maybe if you cleared that crap off your eyes you'd have a better chance at seeing," Remus offered calmly, still sweeping fastidiously and smiling politely as though he had just made a remark about the weather.

June's pointy face remained stoic for a moment, then to his slight surprise, it split into a wide grin. "You're funny - maybe not so borin' as I first t'aught."

"You honour me," he replied sarcastically, not caring in the slightest what she thought of him.

"Oi - Mark! She's bending over!

One of the young boys who had been standing near June suddenly jabbed his mate in the arm, pure joy radiating off of them as they directed their gaze behind Remus.

The wizard's face grew hot, a sudden inexplicable anger coursing through his veins as he turned to look at what had so readily captured their attention.

Neoma was bent over at the waist, innocently examining a package of dessert, no doubt wondering if it could be salvaged - her backside hanging in the air.

It was less than 48 hours until the full moon and he could feel himself slowly slipping. The wolf inside him, far too close to the surface at this point, was torn between wanting join them in gawking at her shapely arse and tearing the two teens in half for looking at her.

He could see Mark fanning himself, lips pursed in a silent whistle as his red headed friend laughed loudly. June made a face of disgust and stormed away.

Lupin could feel himself sweating, trying so very hard not to beat them over the head with the broom he held in his white knuckled fist.

Slowly, carefully, he made his way closer to Neoma, successfully blocking her from the lewd audience she'd unknowingly attracted.

She heard his footsteps approaching and - to his great relief - straightened up, flashing a bright smile in his direction hat nearly made him stumble.

But her expression faltered when she saw the dark look on his face, her chocolate coloured eyes suddenly honing in on Mark and his ginger friend who were still ogling her.

Remus wanted to do something to save her from the embarrassment, but to his utter incredulity she gave her eyes an enormous roll before standing pin straight, jutting her chest and backside out in the process.

"Like what you see?" She asked scathingly. "Look all you want because that's as far as you'll ever get, you pre-pubescent little shits!" Neoma flipped them an incredibly rude gesture before turning around in a huff, simultaneously reaching up to free her hair from the plastic baker's net.

Remus didn't know what to be more in awe of - her soft brown tresses which fell just short of her waist in a tumble of curls, or her colourful vocabulary.

She seemed so demure and ladylike. Even her features were soft and delicate, not a single sharp angle on her entire face; the razor's edge apparently hidden behind her heart shaped lips.

"Fucking wankers, the lot of them," She added for good measure as the two boys chortled at her reaction, but there was a definite hint of scarlet which stained their youthful cheeks.

Lupin couldn't control the small smile that crept across his face - clearly he had misjudged her.

"These look alright to you?" She asked, already seeming to have forgotten the incident as she held up a package of profiteroles that were slightly crumpled at the corners.

Remus fought with everything he was worth not to stare at her breasts and looked down to examine the desserts, which she held annoyingly close to her chest.

He gave a tight nod and returned to his ever faithful broom, going over a spotless patch of tile.

"Hmm, never mind. Unless - does that look like a rip to you?" Neoma, trying to be polite and include the newest employee in conversation, was utterly oblivious to the devastating effect she was having on the poor man she had sidled far too close beside.

Remus immediately stiffened as she stepped into his personal bubble, his entire body going numb as he watched her flick a lock of hair behind her shoulder. He tried desperately to snort out her scent, but it was too late.

The sweet smell of licorice and vanilla blended deliciously over the musky backdrop of crushed violets and green ivy.

It was a complex, mouth watering scent and he had a debilitating need to stand there and drown in it.

"Are you alright?" She asked slowly. She was a full two heads shorter than he was, and had turned her slightly freckled face up to stare him straight in the eye. "You look like you're about to be sick."

_Pull yourself together._

"I'm fine - just hungry." He replied with a much steadier tone than he thought himself capable of. He felt a twinge of guilt for lying to her, but in all fairness he _was_ always hungry.

"You haven't taken a break yet?"

"Uh - no. But that's fine, really -"

"Piss off, you must be starving! Let's go, I'll show you the staff room."

Remus was neck deep in ecstasy and utter panic. He wanted to follow her but didn't trust himself. He was supposed to be keeping his distance...just in case.

_In case what? She falls for you? Get over yourself; they'll find a cure for lycanthropy before she fancies you._

"Really I'd rather finish up here," he stated solemnly, gesturing towards the few rogue crumbs on the floor. It was his last ditch attempt to avoid being forced into a small room with her, not to mention a chance to save whatever dignity he had left as the only food in his possession was the green apple Terrance had tossed at him earlier.

Neoma looked surprised at having her offer rejected, her feathery brows furrowing for a split second before she smiled at him again. "Terry finally found a hard worker," she praised. "I'll be sure to tell him."

Lupin's face flushed scarlet and he tried ducking his head to conceal his embarrassment, but then his lupine sense of smell was overwhelmed by the slow, acrid burn of something left in the oven too long.

"Is something burning?" He asked innocently, turning towards her.

"Shit! My pies!" Neoma gasped, flying towards her tiny workspace in a streak of black and red.

Finally free from her presence, Remus felt his entire body sag in relief, not realizing just how tense he'd been. Releasing his tight grip on the broom handle, he flexed his aching fingers methodically.

"Foolish, don't you think? To let a pretty girl like that eat lunch alone?"

Jumping at the strange voice, Lupin turned to find a rail thin woman in her fifties, black hair streaked with a lustrous shade of grey which matched her expensive looking pea coat, standing several feet behind him.

She was examining Remus strangely, as though he were an exotic animal caged in a zoo.

His initial reaction was to tell her to mind her own goddamn business but instead he shrugged. "I'm bad news. She doesn't want to get caught up with the likes of me," he offered, trying to put on his best impression of a troublemaker. The words were definitely true, but they still made his heart sink and he hoped it wouldn't show on his face.

"I think you should let her make that decision on her own," the woman replied sagely, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her coat.

"I think you don't know what you're talking about," Lupin grumbled, turning away from her.

"You know, taking risks can be a good thing sometimes."

"I'm sorry, can I help you find something or...?" Remus trailed off, unable to cloak the irritation in his deep voice as he rounded on the strange woman once more.

He noticed her arms were empty - no shopping basket in sight.

His heart sank. The Ministry _had_ sent an Oblivator after all.

He watched the rigid woman smirk slightly before reaching into her pocket. She was going to draw her wand…

"My son wants me to bring these home for him," she said with an air of amusement as she pulled out a small, neatly folded piece of paper.

Remus nearly laughed out loud with relief.

He made his way over, hoping to help her find the items on her list, but no sooner had he taken two steps than he noticed her shrink away from him.

"Er… perhaps you can tell me what you're looking for?" The man offered instead, stopping in his tracks.

"Uh, yes. Yes, that'll do." Her thin lipped visage was slightly perturbed, as though he had genuinely frightened her by walking over with a helpful smile.

She rattled off her list and after a moment of recollection, Lupin pointed her towards the produce section.

She nodded at him curtly and spun on the heel of her well polished pumps towards aisle seven.

As he watched after her, there was an odd, creeping sensation of pin pricks slowly biting at his temples, as though an invisible hand were trying to pluck out his thoughts with a needle.

Shaking his head slightly, he went back to sweeping with a strange feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach.


	4. The Unspeakables

~~~~

**Ministry of Magic - June 25**

**4:00PM**.

A pair of bright red stilettos clipped across the sleek marble floor as Miriam Matthews maneuvered her way through a throng of smartly dressed wizards.

Her neatly polished nails glistened in the artificial light as she clutched onto a thick manilla folder in one hand and a cup of recently purchased, steaming tea in the other.

She smiled at a few familiar faces as they flew past, but was in too much of a rush to stop and chat to those who opened their mouths in greeting.

Already five minutes late to the meeting she had arranged with her boss, she walked as fast as she could past the Obliviation Offices towards Accidental Magic, her calves burning from the prolonged use of her traitorous shoes.

Awkwardly jogging the last few steps, she reached the translucent glass doors and yanked fiercely on the handle.

Miriam slipped inside, sweating slightly and desperately hoping to find her desk to set the burning cup of tea down- perhaps she should have opted for a cold drink.

"Ah, Mitzy!" The strong, deep voice of Winston Ermine broke through the air as Miriam shuddered at the nickname. Ermine was the tall, handsome head of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies. "I see you had time to stop for a cuppa," he admonished, raising a golden eyebrow at her. "And you didn't even care to get me one!"

Miriam tried to force what looked like sheepish smile at her boss.

"Alright, what's so important that you've interrupted my schedule?"

Just as she pulled out the bursting file from under her arm, two figures emerged from around the corner.

An exceptionally thin, older woman with grey streaked hair and an ancient looking man dressed in solid purple robes of crushed velvet - neither of whom belonged on the third floor.

Mathews reigned in the folder at once.

"This is Perpetua Hodgkins and Professor Saul Croaker," Winston explained cordially. She noticed, with a slight pang of irritation, that he didn't bother to return the introduction. "Department of Mysteries," he added with a sidelong glance at his secretary.

Suddenly nervous, the young witch fiddled with the paper in her hand. The two Unspeakables nodded politely in her direction before striking up a hushed conversation about the latest Puddlemere United match as though it were of utmost importance.

"Come on love, spit it out. I haven't got all day," Winston tutted impatiently.

Miriam quickly set down the scalding cup of tea on a nearby planter before handing the file over to her boss as she began to explain.

"Accidental magic in the presence of two Muggles -"

"Then why is this coming to me?" He asked brusquely, peering up at her from under his pale lashes with a look that made it clear he was questioning her competence. "Send this to Underage Magic." He declared, trying to rid himself of the unopened work as fast as he could

"But sir, the subject is 26 years old and -"

"Obliviators then," he interjected once more, brandishing the file at her as though it were about to catch fire.

Trying not to lose her patience, Miriam tried again, knowing Ermine's attention span and appetite for challenging work was about the size of a pea. "Sir, please just read it."

The blonde man gave her a pointed glare before reluctantly ripping out a pair of spectacles from the breast pocket of his expensive navy suit.

"Yorkshire, England, June 25th at five past three in the afternoon, employee at Tinsley's Tally - blah blah blah…" His blue eyes glazed over frighteningly fast as he lost interest, skimming the document until he stopped, suddenly frowning. "Remus John Lupin...Lupin. Why does that sound so familiar?"

"Lyall's boy?" The austere witch broke off in mid conversation with the purple robed professor, her thin eyebrows piqued with sudden interest as she turned her cold gaze onto Ermine.

Miriam could see her boss' eyes flick back to the top of the page to properly read through the document this time.

"Yes...I suppose it _is_ his son." The fully grown, six foot man before her abruptly looked intensely uncomfortable. He held the incident report gingerly, as though it were a contagious disease.

Miriam stared at him curiously before opting to speak. "I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I saw his age and how unusual it is for a fully grown wizard to lose control of magic like that...so I did some research."

Hodgkins and Ermine both glared at her, a strange look settling upon their features as she continued, not caring for the Unspeakable who had wedged herself into the conversation - at least Professor Croaker had taken to examining the paintings on the walls. "This _Remus -_ he's a Hogwarts graduate with _nine_ O.W.L's, a former member of the Order, and his father was one of the most brilliant minds on Non-Human Spiritous Apparitions."

"So?" Ermine challenged, still glaring condescendingly at her.

Miriam's eye twitched in annoyance.

"So...I was wondering what in Merlin's name he was doing working at a Muggle grocery store."

"Maybe he fancies it there," Her boss concluded, flipping the file shut with extra force as though the pages were threatening to jump out and attack him.

"Well, no - because then I remembered coming across his name on an application a few months prior. So I borrowed his personal file from public records..."

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Perpetua seemed as though she were cautioning Miriam with her eyes.

"Er...he's applied for over forty different positions in the past two years and-"

"Ah! Simply not qualified for a ministry job, eh?" Ermine countered again, looking somewhat smug as he tugged on his lapels.

"That's the thing sir, not only is he exceptionally _overqualified_ , but he's not even being properly rejected either." Her boss huffed loudly, quickly losing his mirth. "All of his documents are stamped _void_." Miriam reached over and opened the file again, pulling out an enormous stack of applications, her finger showcasing the bright red stamp which blotted out the entire page. "It's like no one is even reading past his name…"

Ermine's face was slightly pink and he was chewing the inside of his cheek in irritation. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

Miriam was slightly taken aback. She'd expected to be shut down or shut up five minutes ago, but Winston was _actually_ asking her opinion. "Well...his father still works here doesn't he? On the seventh floor? The very least we could do is ask him to get in touch with Remus and offer the man an inter-"

"Absolutely not!" Ermine hissed, his eyes suddenly blazing like flecks of blue fire. "I will not have _someth-_ someone like _that_ working within ten feet of Whitehall!"

Miriam felt the bottom of her stomach give way at the image of her boss positively beside himself with anger at such a seemingly innocuous request. What the bloody hell did he mean _someone like that?_

"Calm yourself, Winston," Perpetua warned, stepping forward to place a hand on his padded shoulder. She forced a smile at the young witch that made it look like her face was about to crack.

"Clearly you've got a very intelligent secretary on your hands - nothing to get your knickers in a knot over," she stated, reaching over and grabbing Remus Lupin's file delicately from Ermine who had nearly bent the folder in half.

"Young master Lupin got himself caught up in the wrong crowd awhile back," Hodgkins explained calmly, flicking through the stacks of paperwork Miriam had accumulated in the past hour. "Dangerous fellow...if provoked."

"But he has no criminal record, I went through and checked."

At this, the old witch gave the young woman a glare that could blister paint before resting her gaze on Ermine. "Clearly you need to be giving her more work if she has time to do all this... snooping." Perpetua concluded before brandishing the bursting folder at him.

Mathew's face flushed at the remark - but it was clear that Ermine and Hodgkins were hiding something.

"If I give her anymore work to do, the rest of the department would be out of a job within the week," Winston praised, suddenly defensive over the woman he had just lost his temper with seconds ago.

The secretary smirked slightly - her boss was incorrigible, but at least he had _some_ redeeming moments.

Perpetua rolled her cold, black eyes at them before turning back to the file in her hands.

"Well, Miss…" the Unspeakable paused, waiting for the other witch to respond.

"Mitzy," Ermine interjected, completely disintegrating any ounce of gratitude Miriam felt towards him.

Perpetua nearly scoffed, but kept her eyes down, now perusing the incident report.

"Were these Muggles threatening him? Which spell was used?" She asked curiously, turning over the page in hopes of finding more information.

"The circumstances were unremarkable, ma'am. And there wasn't a specific spell - he lost control -"

"At the age of twenty-six?" The older woman's posh, condescending sneer made Miriam want to smack the wrinkles off her wizened face. "That's unheard of."

"And why, I believe, she began to investigate in the first place," the hoarse, throaty voice of the forgotten professor suddenly chimed in.

The young secretary wanted to reach over and give him a hug - he wasn't even a part of the conversation and he'd been listening better than these two.

"Well that still doesn't explain why..." Perpetua trailed off, her black eyes suddenly widening as though a great epiphany had rammed itself into one of her bat-like ears.

A few seconds of silence passed before Ermine exchanged a confused glance with his secretary. Croaker sighed, checking one of the three pocket watches he wore before tucking it back into his robes.

"I must get going," he announced, already halfway out the door. "Ermine, Hodgkins, young miss - it's been a pleasure." And with a great flourish of purple, the Professor was gone.

Perpetua seemed to have returned to reality as she began stuffing papers back into Lupin's file. "I'll be taking this from you - for research purposes."

"What? You can't confiscate someone's personal file!"

"Young girl, you do not tell me what I can and can't do," Hodgkins challenged dangerously, tucking all of Miriam's findings under her bony arm.

Mathews had half a mind to rip the folder out of the old hag's gnarled hands.

Ermine seemed to sense her violent thoughts and put a hand on her elbow, shaking his head. His pale blue eyes were wide and wordlessly warning her not to press the matter.

Silently fuming, Miriam nodded tersely at the old woman who smirked in reply.

"A good day to you Winston, and to you _Mitzy."_

* * *

 

Clicking her tongue in impatience, Perpetua waited for the lift attendant to open the doors as the small box came to its final stop on level 9.

"Department of Mysteries," a pleasant, bodiless voice announced as a few inter office memos flitted out ahead of the old witch.

As fast as her dark polished pumps could take her, the veteran Unspeakable flew down the shining black corridors towards a single room at the end of the hall that remained perpetually locked.

Pulling out her sleek, unyielding wand, Hodgkins pointed it straight at the centre of the keyless door.

" _Ego sum Clavis."_

A bright red streak of light appeared in the centre of the smooth, stone facade and then vanished just as quickly - a small, golden doorknob magically appearing in its place.

Quickly casting a bubble head charm on herself, Perpetua pulled the heavy door open and deftly slipped into the Love Chamber.


	5. The Love Chamber

A gust of cold air blasted Perpetua as soon as she entered the blindingly white room, making her pull the grey pea coat around her thin form even tighter. The deafening silence within the chamber was broken only by the bubbling fountain of Amortentia which sat in the centre of the enormous chamber, casting a pink glow upon Perpetua’s ivory clad colleagues. Two of whom were carefully siphoning the pearly potion into crystal beakers while another stood scribbling frantically on a notepad.

These white coated chemists were called Tinkerers, and experimented endlessly with the love draught; usually creating versions of Amortentia even more dangerous than the original.

 Demortia, which was rumoured to smell strongly of cinnamon, was created by stewing two moonstones during an eclipse. The result was a blood red liquid that provoked feelings of such intense emotion that all five test subjects had been driven insane within hours of taking it. Then there was Anti-Amorentis; created by an innovative Tinkerer who decided to add a few strands of his wife’s hair into the mixture. The poor man had become utterly repulsed by her the moment the concoction touched his lips.

 Nearly two hundred strains of Amortentia had been invented to date - of which the public knew none.

 Aside from a wayward sniff that could result in insanity, the Love Chamber was by far the most dangerous room in the entire Ministry. The Unspeakables in this department had unlimited access to every single piece of information within the Ministry, and even more information the MoM had no idea about. The study of mating, courting, deprivation and separation had lead to an inordinate amount of illicit and explicit content over the years - many subjects even hand picked from different departments within Whitehall. 

But oh, how Perpetua adored it - the study of love. The most powerful, yet enigmatic force known to humanity.

A faint tingle that had nothing to do with the cold ran up her spine as she scanned the amphitheater style room; massive staircases leading to row upon row of crystal vitrines which held the stark red, blood stained hearts of over a hundred and twenty different species. 

Of the entire collection, only two glass cases remained empty. One of which was labelled _Werewolf._

Perpetua clutched the file in her hand a little tighter and bustled towards a series of plain, white desks lining the perimeter of the chamber. 

The flushed Unspeakable quickly smoothed out her creaseless, black skirt, before taking a seat behind one of the Record Stations.

She took a deep sigh and set Remus Lupin’s file in front of her, glaring at the tattered folder as though it had just called her a cow. She could very well be grasping at straws, but If she remembered correctly, this little hunch could lead to the greatest breakthrough of her career...

The wizened witch reached towards the corner of the station and pulled forward an enormous brass machine called the König Wheel - after the old German professor who, after his fifty-sixth visit to the Archives in one afternoon, vowed he would never again leave his desk for personnel records.

Decades later, they had been left with an invaluable instrument which cut redundancies, filing errors and interdepartmental travel by nearly ninety percent; and naturally, the Unspeakables were the only ones who knew of its existence.

 The contraption was in essence a giant cylinder with hundreds of multicoloured tabs and plastic jackets jutting out in labelled rows of letters, numbers and symbols. A small brass handle protruded from the right and a series of blue, red and yellow levers stood at varying lengths to the left.

Hodgkins carefully cranked the brass shaft and the wheel groaned mightily as it turned, a dozen green tabs flopping forward limply before a sea of red replaced them. She spun until a cluster of pale yellow tabs surfaced, each decorated with a thin, crescent moon.

The Werewolf Registration.

 Perpetua reached forward and pried apart the slick plastic jacket, revealing rows of alphabetical markers. Gently tugging on the letter ‘A’, a small flap fell open and the woman pulled out a blank square of parchment.

 Digging into the breast pocket of her coat, she retrieved her wand and traced the name _Ackerman, Richard_ in glowing red letters onto the paper before tucking the slip back into its dusty home.

The old Unspeakable jammed the brass handle into the side of the machine until it clicked in satisfaction before giving it one full rotation amidst the sound of grinding, metal teeth.

A few seconds of impatient finger tapping passed before the König Wheel gave a faint - **_Ding!_ **

Perpetua yanked open the single drawer carved into the front of the desk and peered down at the solitary folder which had appeared upon the scarlet, velour lining.

 She set Ackerman’s file down on the shining desk next to Lupin’s; his was considerably thinner than Remus’ and had the word **DECEASED** stamped across the front in shining black ink.

 Perpetua flicked through Ackerman’s fruitless attempts at employment with the Ministry before gingerly pulling out the bright blue Obliviation Report.

Her familiar, painstakingly neat handwriting filled the entire page.

 

_Ackerman, Male Werewolf, 32 years of age “accidentally” set woman aflame following physical contact. Anna Fitzgerald, Female Muggle, 29 years of age has been healed and has had her memory successfully modified on this 16th day of September 1965 by Perpetua J. Hodgkins. Let the record state that Ackerman has been forthwith forbidden from contacting Miss Fitzgerald._

 

A few spaces below, in what looked like a messy scrawl, she had added “- _6 days primus lune.”_

 Hodgkin’s clicked her tongue as she recalled the incident. She had been working as an Obliviator in those days and could see the pale, sickly visage of Richard in her mind’s eye. Blonde hair a mess and scarred face streaked with tears as he wrung his huge hands in anguish while Perpetua erased every memory of the monster from Anna’s mind. The young woman, naive and overly sensitive, had fallen for Richard’s quiet, reserved demeanour. That was until she gave him a peck on the cheek and he’d set her clothes on fire.

The wolf pleaded with Perpetua, claiming they were in love, but she had been appalled by the mere thought of a werewolf in those days. That _thing_ deserved to be locked in a cage, not free to cavort with innocent Muggles!

Hodgkins nearly smiled at her own stupidity in handling the matter. Who knew that twenty-one years later she would be a specialist in interspecies mating, and would kill to recreate those very same circumstances.

 Her cold, black eyes suddenly burned bright with excitement as they settled on Remus’ file - and now, fate might have given her a second chance to study love in one of the most dangerous beasts known to Wizardkind.

She pulled forward the pale green Accidental Magic notice that Ermine’s secretary had retrieved earlier today and stared at the description.

Lyall’s son had set off a few small explosions at the grocery store in the presence of two muggles; a male and a female. She wondered idly which one had acted as the emotional trigger.

The old witch suddenly put down the notice as though it had burned her and took a deep breath.

_You’re getting ahead of yourself. You need evidence. You need something substantial._

She let out an irritated huff through her beak-like nose as she glared at Ackerman and Lupin’s files, her eyes abruptly lingering on the dates.

The cogs in her mind slowly turned as various incidents and ideas connected and formed. She re-read her small note at the bottom of Richard’s report ‘-6 _days to primus lune_ ’ before her eyes flicked like a knife to today’s date on Lupin’s notice; June 26th.

Forty-eight hours before the next full moon.

Faster than she could even comprehend, her wrinkled hands began moving towards the König Wheel.

A minute and a half later, Hodgkins was nearly screaming with excitement as she pulled out file after file of registered Werewolves, all of whom had Accidental Magic notices well into adulthood and various Obliviation reports. Of the twenty folders she had piled onto the Record Station, every single one had occured in the presence of a member of the opposite sex.

What did this mean? Did it correlate to them letting their guard down? Was is some strange connection between the lunar tides and their hormonal chemistry? Was it the inner wolf alerting their non transformed self of a potential mate? A soulmate?

Questions buzzed in her mind like a swarm of angry hornets but she spent her excited energy madly scribbling the dates of every occurance in the small notebook she had produced. If even _half_ of these fell within a week of the full moon, she would have enough evidence to produce a paper  on a theory. With any luck, she could even propose an Effect.

But what she needed now was a case study. A living, breathing, manipulatable experiment.

Nearly forgetting to return all the personnel records, Perpetua flicked her wand at the stacks of files and sent them whizzing back into the drawer in one fluid motion.

 Grabbing the only file she had entered the room with, the old woman launched herself towards the shining marble staircase, the sound of her polished heels muffled by the blood red carpet that lined each step until she reached the second last row.

 Snaking her way through the narrow aisle, Perpetua came to stand before the empty display.

 The disembodied hearts in the Love Chamber belonged to all manner of beasts and beings, but what had proven next to impossible for the Unspeakables was the ability to procure the organ from a Wolf while fully transformed.

That was about to change.

Hodgkins traced a bony finger over the glass case, a small smile threatening to break her stern visage as she tucked Lupin’s file under her arm.

_This dog won’t get away._

 

_****_

**Tinsley’s Tally**

**6:00 PM**

 

Tired, sweating and aching all over, Remus finally finished his shift. He wasn’t used to being on his feet for so long and the distinct lack of food didn’t help the matter. Perhaps he was lucky that this would be his first **_and_ ** last day here.

The melancholy wizard trudged towards the staff room, the crushing weight of guilt and self-loathing heavy on his mind.

“Remus!”

Tinsley’s chipper voice broke through the shroud of misery surrounding the lanky shelf stocker as he turned to face his boss - _former_ boss.

Lupin forced a tight smile at him.

“Well, how was your first day?” Terrance asked excitedly, and then before he could even think of a reply, the shopkeeper kept talking. “A little crazy, and perhaps a tad unorthodox - I know! But that’s how we do things here! Never a dull moment!”

Remus smiled again, this time he could feel the warmth reach his brown eyes as he stared at the unsuspecting Muggle with unmistakable fondness.

“It was perfect.”

And in an odd kind of way it had been. He had met Neoma and although he’d never see her again, the fact that he knew she existed would be enough for him.

 “Are you coming down with something, son? You look awfully peaky,” Terrance noted, his voice laced with concern as he scrutinized the tall man.

Remus shook his head and Tinsley smiled before he reached into his apron and pulled out a creaseless cheque.

Lupin knew before he had even accepted the position that it was only a matter of time before he’d have to leave, so he had requested to be paid after every shift -a request that was usually denied. But not only had Tinsley agreed to the terms, he hadn’t even asked a single question in regards to it.

“If you’re feeling ill next shift, don’t you worry about coming in. Just call me and I’ll sort it out - can’t have my newest employee sick on the job, eh?”

Lupin was genuinely taken aback by his generosity, suddenly feeling ten times worse for having to disappear on the man. He managed a slight nod before he accepted the cheque and Tinsley clapped him on the back as high as he could reach.

“Atta lad! Now be off and make sure you get some rest.”

 _“_ All I need is a good steak,” he muttered under his breath as he reached the small, green door to the break room. The wizard yanked it open and thanked the stars - it was blissfully empty.

A series of small, circular tables littered the room, each with a few high backed chairs pushed around haphazardly. Bright blue lockers lined the walls on either side and a well kept leather sofa sat in front of a large, clunky television in the centre of the staff lounge. The screen was currently playing a Muggle football match, and its giant antennas stuck out from either side like a pair of metal antlers.

 The thought of which brought a small, sad smile to Lupin’s lips.

 “If only you lot could see me now,” he whispered to long lost friends who stood watching from unknown places among the heavens.

And all of a sudden he felt it; five long, miserable years of near starvation and utter solitude, of heart wrenching betrayal and anguish. Then before he could stop himself, Remus punched the solid steel locker closest to him with everything he could muster.

A garbled yelp escaped his lips as the beautiful, mind numbing pain coursed through his damaged fingers, effectively distracting him from his debilitating despair.

Breathing heavily through his nose, the man focused on the pain in his hand and let it wash away any remnants of despair.

 A few seconds passed before he looked up to assess the damage to the wall. There was a good dent in the blue metal and the wizard sighed heavily.

“Reparo,” he muttered as the shining locker returned to its pristine condition.

He looked at his fist, about to repair his fingers when he thought against it - at least the pain would keep his mind off his hunger.

Quickly pushing his way through the maze of chairs towards the end of the room where his musty, moth eaten coat hung within an otherwise empty locker, Remus was ready to take his leave.

 But when he yanked open the small door, he nearly did a double take to make sure he’d gotten the right one.

Inside the compartment, on a single shelf, sat an overly brown apple pie with a small note attached to the shining, silver tin.

All he could do for a good thirty seconds was stand there and stare at them as though if he waited long enough, they’d disappear.

But when they didn’t, Remus reached towards the pie with trembling fingers and gently picked up the paper.

 He could smell her on the stationary and had to stop himself from bringing the sheet to his nose and drowning in her scent.

 

_Dear Remus,_

_Thanks for all your hard work today and welcome to the team!_

_Neoma_

 

Her large, messy penmanship caught the man off guard but he smiled at it nonetheless.

He supposed she was full of surprises; full of life and love and beauty.

Full of everything he wasn’t.  

For a split second, Remus stood back and allowed himself to wonder what life could have been like if he wasn’t a monsterThere wasn’t a chance in hell he would have let Neoma leave today without asking her out for a cup of coffee at the very least. But as circumstances had it, he’d barely given her more than a nod as she had waved goodbye. Not to mention he scarcely had enough money to pay for a tea bag let alone a restaurant and their fancy lattes.

 No. He deserved to be alone and she deserved someone _so_ much better.

 Lupin tucked the woman’s message into his pocket, knowing that it would serve as a welcome memento of his humanity the morning after his transformation. If he was lucky, perhaps he’d still be able to smell her scent on the paper while he cradled his bruised body on the cold basement floor of Lupin Cottage.

Wordlessly casting a stasis charm on the note, he reached into the locker and pulled out the pie.

“Fuck! 

He nearly dropped the entire dessert as his forgotten injury flared in agony.

Carefully reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew his wand.

Perhaps he’d been too quick to assume he’d need a distraction from his hunger tonight.

 “Episkey!” He winced while he watched and felt the bones in his fist magically begin to mend. 

He smiled ruefully at his healed hand and hung up his red apron before slipping into his beige coat, replacing his wand in the breast pocket.

 Gingerly cradling the pie in his arms as though it were a newborn baby, the wizard left Tinsley’s Tally with a bittersweet feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The cool, sweet breeze of a midsummers night met him as he exited the main entrance, sweeping back his sandy hair while he squinted into the rutilant sunset.

For the briefest moment, Remus lost himself in the stunning splendor of the setting sun - he was seventeen again, surrounded by loved ones sharing a bottle of Firewhisky over conversations about everything and nothing. In that fleeting minute, he was whole again.

And then he blinked.

The memory shattered into a thousand pieces around him as he came back to reality, utterly alone.

Or was he? 

The eerie sensation of being watched set the hairs on the back of his neck on end as the wizard furtively looked around the car park, half expecting to meet the gaze of some kind of monster. But all he found were the beady black eyes of a striking bird with lustrous grey feathers staring him down from a cement divider.

Lupin cocked his head at the animal; something about it seemed so familiar...

 But before he could think on it any longer, the beast stretched its massive wings and took off into the trees.

Remus shrugged and hurried off towards the dense shrubbery behind the grocery store to apparate home.

 

****

 

Lupin busted the creaky, splintered door of the cottage open with his hip as he tore into Neoma’s pie like an animal. Bits of perfectly tart apple filling and flakes of fluffy crust flew everywhere as he inhaled his second handful of dessert.

Maybe it was the month long diet of beans, or the fact that he hadn’t eaten since morning, but this pie was the single most glorious piece of food he had ever tasted.

 Reaching back with his foot, Remus gently kicked the door shut before reaching to switch on the lights, already on his third slice. He would have one more piece with a cup of tea before saving the rest for breakfast tomorrow.

Shrugging out of his coat, the lanky wizard set the half empty dessert tin down on the small table just inside the living room.

“Hullo, Remus.”

Stifling a scream and a curse at the same time, Lupin nearly doubled over. His heart threatening to jump out of his throat at the sound of the man’s familiar voice.

There on his deep blue sofa sat a middle aged man with sandy brown hair, kind hazel eyes and a huge smile.

Remus blinked twice in disbelief before his nonplussed expression broke into an ear splitting grin. “Dad?”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave your lovely reviews!

Lyall Lupin sprang off the couch as though the seat had ejected him, walking towards his only son with open arms and a wide smile that lit up the tiny room.

Remus met him half way and slammed into the other man's chest with enough force to take down a tree, but his father took it in stride and hugged him warmly.

"What are you doing here?" The boy asked emphatically; after a full year of solitude, he was as starved for physical affection as he was for food. Perhaps his father sensed it, and held him within his loving embrace for a moment longer.

It nearly made Remus feel human again.

"What? Your old man can't drop in for a visit?" Lyall asked facetiously, pulling away and taking the smell of sandalwood and fresh mint with him.

"No, of course you can. I just thought you'd send an owl or something. Give me some time to…" Remus looked around the room. The walls were splintered, the floors were chipping and the roof had giant holes bandaged over with plastic bags and permanent sticking charms. There was barely any furniture or carpet to clean, and no dishes since he had nothing to eat. "Well...to prepare," he finished lamely.

Lyall followed his son's gaze and took in the pathetic squalor of the semi-derelict building; his warm smile had vanished and he gave his son a pointed glare.

_And here we go._

"Remus, you know you're more than welcome to come stay with me. I've told you a thousand times. There are two extra rooms and-"

Remus cut his father's offer short with an annoyed huff. "Look - I know this place isn't much, but it's home," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.

It was true, the house was a dilapidated shit hole. But it was _his_ shit hole. Besides, there was no chance he would move in with his father and ruin the peaceful existence he'd waited years to enjoy.

He looked healthier than ever; the perpetual worry and stress of raising a lycanthrope a mere memory on his wrinkled face. It was a shame mother hadn't lived long enough to enjoy the same tranquil lifestyle with her husband.

"Fine, then at least let me loan you some money. Just until you get on your feet, then you can -"

Remus cut him off again, this time with a sharp laugh that came out like a bark. "I'm a thirty year old werewolf. _This_ ,"— he gestured around at his impoverished lifestyle—"is as _on my feet_ as I'm ever going to get."

There was a short silence filled by the faint sound of wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. Lyall was chewing the inside of his cheek, a telltale sign of his effort to reign in his temper.

"You're only twenty-six, quit ageing yourself." He finally said curtly. Remus stopped himself short of an eye roll, knowing how much the other man detested the action.

Suddenly his father's figure slumped and he sighed tremendously, the soft warmth in his hazel eyes returning. "All your mum and I ever wanted was to see you happy. Especially after everything I put—after everything you've been through."

The boy felt the irritation melt away as he stared st his father. The tall, once proud figure of a renowned expert was now a broken man standing in his living room, shoulders hunched under the weight of a thousand unspoken burdens.

Remus knew that deep down, his dad still blamed himself for what had happened those many moons ago.

With Voldemort's rise to power, Death Eaters had started recruiting all manner of Dark Creatures in their quest to overthrow the Ministry, who in turn had armed themselves with the top minds on said beasts.

This included Boggarts, Ghouls and Poltergeists- of which Lyall was the utmost authority. Upon joining the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, the man had come face to face with the most savage Werewolf in recent history - Fenrir Greyback - who had been brought in for questioning regarding the deaths of two Muggle children. Greyback had convinced the overworked and underpaid members of the interrogation committee that he was simply a homeless Muggle, but Lyall had not been so easily fooled. After trying and failing to convince the other members to detain the tramp until the next full moon, Lyall became enraged and spoke the words he would come to regret for the rest of his life.

Had he not provoked Greyback, the Werewolf would've had no business bothering the Lupins. But as fate had it, Fenrir forced his way into Remus' bedroom window and attacked the innocent toddler, hoping to exact his revenge by taking life of Lyall's only child. Luckily, the wizard managed to drive the beast away with a series of powerful curses - but the damage had been done.

Remus Lupin had become a fully fledged Werewolf just before his fifth birthday.

The realization and crushing guilt which followed afterward had nearly consumed his father. But despite his own inner demons, he'd given up everything to keep his family safe and spent every minute showering Remus with unconditional love and affection.

The young man felt terrible for snapping at the other and ran a hand through his sandy hair to steady his nerves.

"Just remember, I'm always here to help. It's the least I can do." Lyall offered, a potent look of sadness momentarily painting his features.

His son sighed, smiling apologetically. "I know dad. But I do okay, I promise."

Lupin Sr. gave the boy a stern glare but decided not to press the matter, instead leaning forward to clap him softly on the cheek before making his way back to the sofa. He plopped down with an exaggerated huff, lifted both feet off the ground and sat straight up again, wide smile once more in place.

"So, tell me. How's this new job been treating you? Any pretty girls?"

Remus stared blankly at his father, frantically trying to remember if he had told him about Tinsley's.

"H-how did you know?"

"About the job or the girls?"

_Both._

"The job."

Lyall gave a crooked smile and tapped the side of his nose. "I've got spies everywhere."

Unable to stop himself this time, Remus rolled his green eyes skyward.

"To tell you the truth, the reason I came here today…" His father's tone was abruptly serious and he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, playing with the end of his sleeve. "A lovely witch named Miriam came to visit me this afternoon."

The young wizard was trying desperately not to jump to any conclusions, but it was _not_ working. Was he starting to date other women? Was he here for some kind of blessing?

"Works in the department of Accidental Magic…" Lyall gave him a sidelong glance, trying not to look insinuating while still pausing long enough to let his son interject.

Remus' heart sank.

So the Ministry _had_ caught wind of his little incident.

He reached for his face and pinched the bridge of his long, straight nose in an effort to subdue the oncoming headache.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The boy frowned deeply, not sure if he even knew what to talk about. But he took a deep breath and kept his eyes closed as he spoke.

"I don't really know _what_ happened. One minute I was fine and the next I was shaking her hand and-"

"Her?" Lyall asked, trying much too hard to keep his tone neutral.

"A co-worker. Far too pretty for me, before you ask again." The other man's loud scoff was ignored, as was the sudden flutter of butterflies in his gut at the thought of Neoma. "It was like I'd been hit by lightning." Remus recalled the sensation and felt a shiver travel down the length of his spine. "But the minute I closed my hand around hers...I just lost control."

Lupin Sr. stared at his son for a few seconds in complete silence, his expression unreadable.

"So I take it you've decided not to go back."

It was a statement, not a question.

The young man smiled ruefully at his dad.

"Am I that predictable?"

"Remus…" the older man started, getting to his feet again. "You are kind, and clever and wonderful"—He closed the gap between them in four strides, placing a hand behind his son's back and steering him towards the deep blue, moth eaten sofa, forcing him to sit—"but you're also too considerate for your own good. And I know you think you're some kind of monster"—the boy flinched at the word—"but you're not. Not even close."

Remus sat in contemplative silence, staring at the chipped floor while his father bent over him sympathetically. He spent so much time thinking he _was_ a monster, that it nearly felt wrong to hear someone try and tell him otherwise.

Lyall sighed in defeat as though reading the young man's self deprecating thoughts and ruffled his son's hair before straightening up.

He walked over to a black duffle bag sitting at the foot of the extinguished fireplace and dug in, the sound of rustling plastic filling the air before the clinking of glass joined the medley.

Lyall extracted two gleaming bottles; the stout obsidian vessel of 'Ogden's Olde Firewhisky' and a massive, narrow necked flagon of bright orange Iron Bru - Hope Lupin's weekend indulgence for Remus.

The boy grinned from ear to ear, the sudden wave of nostalgia nearly making his eyes brim with tears. He could barely remember the taste of the sugary beverage, only that it reminded him of a safe place, nestled between his parents with a full belly and a comfy blanket. He eagerly reached for it, but his father smirked and pulled back the bottle.

"Ah! Not until after you've had your supper, young man!"

"Er...All I've got is half eaten apple pie."

Lyall shook his head disapprovingly before setting both bottles down on the floor with a faint thud. He returned to the duffle bag and this time produced a sagging plastic sac.

The smell of raw meat hit Remus like a truck and he nearly howled on the spot.

"Good thing I brought us dinner then," he remarked, brandishing the bag towards his son who was trying desperately not to snatch it from his father and eat the entire package in one bite. "We still have to cook it, mind you. Well… I have to cook mine."

Lyall reached in and dug out two, juicy, oozing, crimson steaks - thankfully too preoccupied with a rip in the plastic to notice the inhuman spasm in his son's neck at the sight of raw meat.

* * *

The delicious, warm aroma of a cooked meal wafted throughout Lupin's cottage like a welcome stranger, clinging to the musty drapes as a reminder of how a home ought to smell.

Both Lupin men had finished their steaks, and now sat wordlessly sipping on their beverage of choice in front of a roaring hearth.

Remus had never felt better - not only was he full, he was _stuffed -_ and it was positively glorious. The young wizard ran his tongue over his teeth, the faint coppery aftertaste of the bloody steak filling his mouth again before he settled on trying to suck out a piece of meat that had lodged between his molars.

"Now if only I'd remembered dessert," his father tutted, disheartened by the lack of after dinner sweets.

Suddenly remembering the half eaten pie, Remus was about to lean back and grab it when he hesitated. Did he really want to give up the last few slices of _her_ gift?

_Oh please- you barely knew the woman! And your father just gave you your biggest meal in over two years._

Frowning at his momentary stint of selfishness, the man leaned over and pulled at the silver tin which sat, just within arms reach, on the only table in the room. His long fingers fumbled with the container before he snatched it, brandishing the dessert at his father in triumph.

Lyall's face erupted into a huge grin. "Hey!" He cheered, clapping his hands in jubilation.

The boy smirked at the other man's enthusiasm- it was clear whom he'd gotten his sweet tooth from.

Passing the tin over, Remus watched as his father carefully plucked a large slice from the container and bit into it, his hazel eyes widening with the first few chews as he re-examined the dessert in his hands.

"This is amazing! Where did you get it?"

"Work - a 'welcome to the team' gift." The younger of the two explained before he retrieved the silver plate and helped himself to the second last slice. His heart momentarily dropped at the thought of nearly finishing the entire pastry in one night, but one bite into the buttery, flaky crust and he could focus on nothing except the delicious, sweet harmony of apples, cinnamon and nutmeg which danced upon his taste buds.

The weary werewolf was so distracted by the foreign feeling of satiety that he didn't notice the silence which filled the air as his father studied him carefully.

"I don't think you should run away from this job."

Remus was slightly taken aback by his father's interjection and took the opportunity of having a mouthful of pie to try and think of a worthy excuse.

Lyall's feathery brow was cocked, his broad shoulders were tense and his mouth was set in a thin, hard line; he was ready to argue.

Finally swallowing, his son opened his mouth, set to satisfy the other with a fantastic explanation.

"I-i...I just have to."

"Bollocks. You're _choosing_ to run away because you don't want to deal with your problems," The man simply declared, staring at the boy with obvious disappointment.

Remus grit his teeth, the truth of the statement stinging him like a wasp.

"You don't understand. With what happened today...I could have hurt someone." The young wizard meant Neoma in particular, but his father didn't need to know that embarrassing detail.

"Who? This girl you've shaken hands with once?" Lyall challenged, the biting sarcasm in his words making his son's ears glow red.

"Yes and no…I don't know if I can trust myself around her. What if-"

"You are a _good_ man, Remus,"—each word was slow and drawn out—"One of the best I've ever known!" Lyall exclaimed, smacking his knees in earnest declaration. "You just need to give yourself more credit."

"But what if I hurt someone?"

His father let out an exasperated sigh. "Out of all the years you'd known James, Pete and Sirius when did you _ever_ hurt them? Accidental or otherwise?"

At the mention of his old friends, the boy visibly recoiled as though Lyall had smacked him in the face with their names.

A floodgate somewhere within Remus threatened to burst, but Lyall - realizing his error - instantly picked up the conversation once more.

"Just promise me you'll give it another go."

His son ran a hand through his hair and nodded curtly.

"I'll think about it."

"Atta lad! Now I can give you this," his father reached into the pocket of his tweed cardigan and pulled out a plain, white business card.

Curiously reaching to take the item, the werewolf turned it over in his hands as he read the drab lettering in the centre of the paper.

_Miriam Matthews_

_Secretary to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_

_Third Floor_

_Whitehall, London_

Remus looked up at his father quizzically, wordlessly coaxing an explanation.

"That young witch I was talking about earlier, she told me to give you her card -said you could use her name the next time you apply for a position at the Ministry."

The younger Lupin blinked stupidly for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Dad, that's brilliant- but then why do you want me to give Tinsley's another go?"

"Tinsley's?"

"The grocer's,"

"Good God, that's a terrible name for a store."

Remus smirked as he reached for a swig of Iron Bru. "Tinsley's Tally, actually."

"Sounds like a pet name for his cock," Lyall said with a look of distaste.

The young wizard nearly choked on his drink, fighting to keep the carbonated beverage travelling down the right pipe.

"That's disgusting and also besides the point- you don't think I'll have a chance at the Ministry?" Remus asked, a small part of him already knowing the answer.

Lyall took a deep breath before reaching for a sip of Firewhisky. "To be honest? No."

There was a short silence, interrupted only by the sound of the cracking fire.

"Because of my condition." Remus offered flatly, feeling his last ounce of hope wither away at the confirmation.

"Because people are cruel and ignorant," His father corrected sternly, taking a long draught from the gleaming, black bottle. There was a slight shade of red creeping up the man's neck as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "We tried so damn hard to keep you off the Registry, to keep things quiet,"—his was voice steadily increasing in volume—"but somehow enough of those bastards at Whitehall know about what I did. About what happened..." Lyall's voice faltered and he made another move to down more whisky but was stopped short by his son.

"Er...I think that's enough of Ogden's Olde for you tonight," Remus declared, firmly plying the drink from the other man's hands and setting it down on the floor.

By the time he looked back up, his father's eyes were suddenly brimming with tears, a look of complete anguish painting his features as he wordlessly gaped at his son. "I-I'm so sorry, Remus," he choked, ducking his head in shame.

The young man sighed internally before reaching over to rub his dad's shoulder soothingly; it wasn't the first time this had happened. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I ruined my little boy's life," Lyall stated limply, staring into the darkness beyond the warm light of the fire as his tears finally broke free and streamed down his stubbly cheeks.

"You did no such thing and we _both_ know it," Remus snapped, abruptly exhausted. Everytime they drank together, his father would break down in tears and spend hours torturing himself for things that could not be undone. The first few episodes had resulted in both men weeping like old women on each other's shoulders, but now? It was just annoying.

Lupin Sr. buried his face in his hands and rubbed away his tears, emerging with bright red cheeks and watery eyes. He cleared his throat and sniffled as both men sat in silence, staring at the long, flickering shadows cast about the walls like looming spirits.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," Remus finally announced, getting ready to help his father up. But the other man shook his head.

"I've got a few spare rooms, dad. I can afford to give one up for the night." None of the rooms had a lick of furniture, but he didn't need to know that when a table could easily be transfigured into a bed.

"No, I should get back. Got work in the morning," Lyall sniffled again, bracing his hands on his knees as he stood up, instantly making for the door without a single look behind him.

"I'll see you there - going to drop off another application," the younger Lupin called, waving the white card of Miriam Matthews in the air.

His father stopped suddenly, his hand on the doorknob. "You're still going to try at the Ministry?"

"Of course, I've got nothing to lose and ...I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a backup in case I get sacked from Tinsley's," he decided, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Lyall looked back at his son, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Atta lad," he whispered before reaching over with open arms to give his only child a warm hug goodbye.

* * *

Remus stood by the window, thankful for the cloudy night which blotted the waxing gibbous from his view as he twirled the business card in his hand for what was probably the fiftieth time. Poking his finger with one of the sharp corners, he thought of returning to Tinsley's.

In part, he had only made it seem as though he was going back to cheer up his father, but Lyall had a point.

Perhaps he _was_ overreacting.

He wouldn't endanger anyone if he just kept his distance.

And yes, becoming infatuated with Neoma was a very real possibility, but that didn't mean she would reciprocate his feelings even remotely. If anything, he was giving himself far too much credit in even assuming that she'd ever look at him again.

Maybe he would go back for the time being; put food on the table for a few weeks while he tried again with the Ministry.

Lupin sighed and pocketed Matthew's card, finally having come to a decision, but didn't move from the window. His elbow was numb from leaning against the unforgiving sill as he stared up at the yellowish blotch which marred the inky sky.

There was still something gnawing at the man, something his father had mentioned which had left a painful ache in his heart.

He _did_ run away from his problems. Or he hid them away...

Turning from the cold glass, the young wizard yanked his coat up from the floor where it had been discarded earlier and pulled out his wand before dropping the jacket again carelessly.

Remus walked slowly towards the mantle, the once roaring fire had died down to nothing more than a few glowing embers, sputtering in brilliant flashes of red as he stopped to glare at a seemingly ordinary, purple vase.

It was plain and bereft of flowers, dust had collected on its smooth surface and there was a dead wood beetle laying by its side.

Lupin blew the insect away and coughed at the cloud of dust which billowed about, making a mental note to scourgify the house later.

He raised his wand and pointed it at the only item above the hearth.

" _Revelio."_

Instantly the vase vanished and in its place appeared a beautiful, jewel encrusted glory box with purple leaves painted around the lid. Black scorch marks tarnished the otherwise pristine facade where in the dying light he could make out the name Lily Evans.

The young man recalled visiting the wreck of Godric's Hollow just days after it had happened. The cozy, loving home had been razed to the ground and the sight of it, along with its distinct lack of inhabitants, had nearly destroyed Remus.

He'd found the glory box sitting innocently among the black, sooty rubble like a gleaming beacon of hope and clung onto it like a lifeline. Inside had been a bundle of birthday cards, a pair of blue earrings and the tiny plastic bracelet which had come home around the wrist of their infant son.

Lupin spent hours searching through the debris for everything and anything else that could be salvaged- anything that would maintain the memory of the happy little family who had once lived there.

By nightfall he'd curated over twenty pictures, a muslin baby blanket, a blue binky and a pair of lion head cuff links - the same ones James had worn on his wedding day.

He remembered staring at contents of the box for hours, trying to make sense of his world which had come crashing down when he'd received the news just that morning.

But none of it did make sense and Lupin buried his despair, along with the agonizing memories of his friends until he could scarcely bear to hear their names.

But now, five years later, it was time to grieve.

It was time to heal.

The young wizard's heart was hammering painfully against his ribs, half in protest and half in yearning at what he was about to do.

He reached forward tentatively, as though the box were an open flame he might burn himself upon, and gingerly flipped it open.

The forgotten keepsakes laid in a jumbled mess - untouched since the moment they'd been stored. Old photos sat in the centre of the pile, the subjects smiling and waving happily at the man who dared to retrieve them with trembling fingers.

Lily Evans, her beautiful red hair shining like dragon fire, blew a kiss at the camera while she jiggled on her hip a chubby infant with unruly black hair.

James' hair.

A thick knot formed in Lupin's throat at the thought of him, suddenly wishing he could be there for the child of his dearest friends.

Quickly wiping the moisture from his eyes, Remus tucked the picture back into the glory box and stared at the new set of faces which peered up at him, waving from inside a shoddy canoe - all beautiful, happy and frozen in time.

There was James, his ever present black spectacles glinting in the light of the mid morning sun as he stood up at the helm and gave a captain's salute. Then there was Peter, whose mousy brown hair was slicked back into an atrocious ponytail. He was sitting and smiling sweetly next to a young Werewolf who had far fewer worries and a much brighter smile as he waved up the older version of himself.

And then Remus' eyes lingered on the last of the quartet - his handsome grin and blinding personality nearly coming through the photo as he picked up a wooden paddle and smacked James' backside with it.

Sirius.

The one who had betrayed them all.

Abruptly feeling nauseous, Lupin was about to toss the remaining photos back into the chest, but somehow stopped himself.

Instead he took a deep breath and moved to the couch, wordlessly reigniting the hearth as he grabbed the half empty bottle of Firewhisky.

He sat down with the pictures and took a long drink of the smooth, burning liquid, preparing himself to go through each and every photo, to relive each and every memory.

It was time to heal.


	7. The Calm Before the Storm

**June 26, Lupin Cottage**

**1 Day to Full Moon**

The cheery cacophony of chirping birds woke Remus at the crack of dawn, eliciting a long string of curse words from the irritated man as he jammed one of the sofa cushions over his head in an effort to muffle their insufferable morning call

But to no avail.

So the young werewolf spent the lazy hours after dawn staring up at the specks of dust which danced playfully in and out of the shining rays of warm sunlight, his eyes slowly staying open for longer and longer. They were tired and puffy - a sobering reminder of the tears he had shed the night before - and he rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from them before yawning hugely.

He couldn’t explain it, but he felt different - as though pouring over the dusty photos of friends and buried memories had somehow filled the gnawing void deep within him. He no longer felt empty; his heart was full and heavy with love and sadness.

It still hurt to think of them, and would for a while, but all in all he felt _okay_.

And that was a start.

Yawning again, Remus stretched out the kinks in his back as he got up with a groan and a strange sense of purpose - the first time in years he hadn’t been dreading a day full of loneliness ahead.

The old pictures lay strewn at the foot of the couch, the nearly empty flask of Ogden’s Olde tipped carelessly on its side with the last few sips of Firewhisky collected in a shallow pool near the bottle’s long neck.

He stooped over to pick up the photos, trying not to stare too long at the bright, smiling faces of James and Sirius as they peeked up at him - each man pointing excitedly to Prongs’ brand new wedding ring.

Carefully placing the stack of memories back into the glory box, Lupin left the chest as it was on his mantle. The amethysts glittering in the daylight - a gentle reminder of the bright, beautiful lost souls.

And he no longer needed to hide it.

Nodding to himself in encouragement he stood staring aimlessly for a minute before re-adjusting his lads. A handful of his trousers made him realize that he’d fallen asleep in his work clothes.

Gingerly sniffing under his arms to assess the damage, he wrinkled his nose at the offending odour before slipping out of the garment and tossing it lazily on the back of the sofa.

The warm rays of sunshine that filtered through the windows felt like a soft embrace on his bare skin and Remus sighed, taking a few minutes to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation.

Most days this was as close to physical affection as he could get. 

It was tough, being alone for so long. And sometimes he went so far as to walk around shirtless for an hour, just so that when he slipped back into a warm sweater, he could pretend it was a hug from someone he loved.

A loud caw brought him back to reality and he reluctantly relinquished the asylum of darkness behind his closed lids before checking the time on his wristwatch.

**9:31**

As if on cue, pangs of hunger began to assail his insides - much stronger today than usual - as if the steaks had reminded him of a proper meal and his stomach was now exacting revenge. He patted his thin, scarred belly in an apologetic manner before he remembered the last slice of pie.

Nearly hollering with joy, Lupin ducked to grab the silver tin which had been placed on the floor, set to devour the pastry when he stopped himself. The few bags of earl grey he had left in the cupboard suddenly calling out to him

_Tea and pie for breakfast? You’re spoiling yourself._

The tall, lanky wizard dared to smile and set off to the kitchen to boil some water.

 _Today is going to be a good day._  

 

****

 

Two hours later, Remus was meandering through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, freshly groomed and showered, with clean clothes, a wallet full of money, and a towering scoop of double chocolate ice cream from Florean Fortescue’s.   

He mentally thanked Terrance and his thick cheque book as he took a bite from the cold, creamy cone and savoured the decadent mixture of slightly bitter dark cocoa and sweet chunks of brownie.

The man was literally on a high and he couldn’t tell if it was the shining sun, the fact he was employed, or that for the first time in years his day actually had a purpose. Whatever it was, even the general aches and violent mood swings that accompanied the day before the full moon couldn’t put a damper on his spirits.

He was smiling like an idiot at no one in particular, when his olive green eyes inadvertently fell onto a young girl with bright pink hair and her disapproving mother, who instantly corralled them away muttering something about “perverted old men.”

Remus sniggered and took another bite of his ice cream, on his way to Whitehall with a slight spring in his step.

But up high on the unevenly shingled rooftops, an unusual bird with shining grey plumage sat, coldly watching the retreating Werewolf with hungry, black eyes. 

 

****

After finding the old, vandalized phone box at the corner of Great Scotland Yard, Remus quickly ducked into the tiny booth amidst the tumultuous noise that drowned St. James’s District.

The overwhelming stench of stale urine hit him like a brick wall and nearly gagged the scent sensitive lycanthrope as soon as he stepped foot inside. The warm, midday sun was not helping things either.

Holding his breath, the young man quickly dialed MAGIC and waited impatiently, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet before there was a sudden jerk of movement and the crammed compartment began to disappear underground.

Just when he thought he’d have to cast a Bubble Head charm on himself, the gleaming wooden floors of the Atrium came into view.

Lupin burst out of the phone box as if it were about to explode, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to breathe fresh air.

A few people passing by gave him strange looks; some stares lingering on his scars.

Remus did his best to ignore them as he ran a hand through his hair and headed into the teeming crowd.

The Atrium was bustling with the usual mix of Ministry workers and general public, all hurriedly shuffling past one another amidst an orchestra of noise - voices yelling the latest headlines of the Daily Prophet, the methodical _swoosh_ of the Floo as emerald flames spit forth employee after employee from the rows of glistening fireplaces which lined the powder blue walls. And loudest of all were the streams of water which poured endlessly from the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

The Werewolf despised the monument and did his best not to look up at their sneering smiles as he bustled past a mob of old men dressed in judges robes, jogging slightly as he reached the ever changing Job Board.

There was a small group of people dressed in street clothes gathered around the large black wall, staring at the glittering gold letters which appeared as if being written by an invisible hand.

Of the twenty positions, Remus had already applied for fifteen of them at some point in time. The others were either too ambitious for him (Deputy Minister for Magic) or made him feel ill (Werewolf Capture Unit).

Sighing hopelessly, he was about to turn away when his eye caught a small square of text at the bottom left corner.

  


_Participants needed for new study._

_Monetary compensation for only a few moments of your time._

_PJ Hodgkins_

_1st Floor_

 

Lupin scratched the slight stubble which had resurfaced on his chin as he contemplated the offer.

Perhaps he’d stop by on his way out. But for now, he was going to surprise his father with a lunch date as recompense for the awkward end to their night.

His cheery mood somewhat deflated, the sandy haired youth trudged towards the small Security Desk to have his wand weighed by the sullenly wizard dressed in robes of Peacock blue. The bored look on his face nearly made Remus feel sorry for him, until he remembered that this was a cushy job with great pay and predictable work hours - something the ostracized Lycanthrope would kill to have.

Lupin’s turn came and went without incident, and he pocketed his wand as he walked away from “Eric Munch,” the seemingly comatose security warlock.

A series of golden gates flanked the walls and a small cluster of people were slowly filing into a corridor further down the hall.

Remus made his way towards the lift entrance and managed to squeeze into the first open compartment along with four ministry employees, the stoic visaged lift attendant and about twelve interoffice memos, which hung suspended in midair above their heads.

The doors closed and before he knew it, they were reopening to let him out on the seventh floor.

“Department of Magical Games and Sports,” a disembodied voice announced as a few of the pale violet interoffice memos flitted out ahead of Remus before scattering in several different directions.

The towering wizard looked around unsurely, having only ever visited his father at work once years ago.

The sight of Lyall, once a respected intellectual, hunched over as nothing more than a paper jockey who spent the entire day filing through incoming mail was painful to witness and Remus couldn’t help but blame himself for the turn his father’s career had taken.

After Remus had been bitten, Lyall went on a year long sabbatical - claiming the stress of the job was beginning to affect his judgement - and spent every waking moment trying to find a cure for lycanthropy. Of course he hadn’t come close, and finally under his wife’s gentle suggestion of acceptance, he had given up the last shred of hope in saving his son.

Lyall returned to his work a changed man; uneasy and nervous, flinching every time anyone brought up Werewolves, and after becoming physically ill at the mention of Greyback, he had decided to transfer departments altogether.

The Department of Magical Games and Sports had the reputation of being the most laid back floor to work on - evident by the casual clothes on most of the people who were milling about, as well as the relaxed gait of the employees. Nothing like the hurried power walk of other ministry officials who threatened to mow you down if you got in their way.

“Oi! Steady on!” An enormous man covered in tattoos growled at Lupin as the two inadvertently bumped into one another just in front of the Irish Quidditch team headquarters.

Remus felt a pang of irritation shoot through him and did his best to ignore the oaf, pushing around the stranger as he came to a fork in the corridor, trying to recall which way the mailing desks were stationed.

“I said watch it!” The giant, red haired Scotsman challenged, advancing towards him menacingly. “You deaf?”

“From birth,” replied Remus flippantly, not even caring to spare a glance at the suddenly confused man before heading down the left corridor.

He passed a series of brightly coloured Quidditch posters which had been tacked to the walls and jogged past the Ludicrous Patents Office until he finally reached the small back room where a row of desks sat in the yellow light, nearly buried in paper.

A small, rather disheveled looking man with a large pair of ears perked up at the sound of Lupin’s arrival.

Remus gave him a tight smile, olive brown eyes scanning the dreary workplace in hopes of finding his father.

“Is Lyall off for lunch?” He asked rather dejectedly, as the other tall man with sandy hair was nowhere to be found.

The big eared wizard set down the letter he was reading and shook his unruly mop of blonde hair.

“Didn’t come in today.”

Remus was slightly taken off guard by the answer. His father _never_ missed work.

“Did he say why?” Lyall’s son asked, scowling slightly. A small part of him was beginning to panic while another was telling him to get a grip.

The former voice in his head winning over as the satellite eared bloke shook his head again.

“Haven’t heard from him all day - no owl, no fire call - nothing.”

The tall, ungainly wizard rubbed his chin while trying to keep from jumping to conclusions. His father was a fully grown adult who didn’t have to explain his actions - but it _was_ very unlike him to miss work with no notice. And he seemed perfectly fine just last night.

The small bubble of anxiety within his chest grew bigger, triggering a pre-lunar migraine - one of the most annoying symptoms which plagued his approaching transformation.

Remus could feel his temples starting to throb and tried to ignore tightening sensation behind his eyes as he screwed them shut, pinching the bridge of his long, straight nose.

_Calm down - he’s probably hungover from the Firewhisky. Most likely having a lovely lie in._

A long, shaky breath escaped his lips as he reopened his eyes and immediately dug into his coat pocket, withdrawing a thin phial full of bright red pills.

Hastily emptying a pair of the painkillers into his palm, he cupped them into his mouth and swallowed them with whatever saliva he had.

Pain relief potion was much more effective at easing his symptoms but cost nearly ten times more than it’s Muggle counterpart. So as always, Lupin settled for the cheapest option.

Satellite ears stared at him in confusion.

“Uhh, I can let you know if he comes in later today- which department do you work in?”

“Not a problem, I’ll just be off,” Remus waved half heartedly as he turned to head back out, but stopped after a few steps. “Just let him know that Remus stopped by, would you?”

The other wizard’s eyes brightened at the sound of his name. “ _You’re_ Remus?” He squeaked. “Lyall’s told us all about you!”

Lupin groaned internally as Satellite Ears gave an awkward wave, clearly debating on whether or not to close in for a handshake.

“Er...Nice to meet you too,” Remus said quickly, offering a half hearted wave as he turned on his heel, hoping he hadn’t come off as _too_ much of an arse.

His day, which had started off full of promise, was now splitting apart at the seams.

He shoved his hands into the pocket of his trousers in a show of indignation, and started when his fingers came into contact with the slick surface of Miriam Matthew’s business card. Gingerly pulling out the glossy piece of paper, the young wizard turned it over in his hands, deciding to stop by the third floor to say thank you to the kind witch whose efforts had been ultimately fruitless.

Besides, he didn’t quite feel like returning to an empty house just yet.

 

****

Seven minutes later, Remus stepped through the large doors of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and into the spacious office. There were stacks and stacks of parchment piled in neat columns along the lilac walls and the room felt considerably dry- as though the tremendous amount of paper had absorbed the moisture straight out of the air. A few potted plants were littered about the lobby and a series of brightly coloured paintings lined the corridor. There was a steady murmur of hushed whispers behind closed doors which made the wizard look around furtively, suddenly feeling extremely foolish for paying a visit to the one department he should’ve been avoiding altogether after his incident.

Ready to exit, he made a grab for the door handle.

“Can I help you?”

Remus flinched at the woman’s voice, still contemplating an escape, but decided against it and reluctantly turned to address the speaker.

A rather petit witch in her early twenties with pin straight hair so black it nearly looked blue in the bright office lights stood staring at him curiously. She had an angular face with a pointed nose and cheekbones that looked like they could cut paper.

Remus smiled to himself; Sirius would have been mesmerized.

A sharp pang ripped through his heart at the thought of his old friend who now sat rotting in a prison cell by himself in Azkaban and he quickly buried the memory of Black.

He instead focused on her bright pink lipstick which matched her high heeled pumps and glistening fingernails as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still waiting for a reply.

She was very pretty, but he wasn’t affected in the least.

His tastes were softer.

 A sudden, vivid image of Neoma bent over at the waist sprang before his eyes and he felt his ears grow hot as he quickly tried to quash the uneasy churning deep within his stomach.

“Uh, I'm Looking for Miriam Matthews,” Lupin explained, trying his best to regain focus as he brandished the white business card at the woman.

Her dark blue eyes flashed to the pearly cardstock before giving him a quick scan, lingering on his sandy hair.

“Are you Remus?” She asked unsurely, raising a thin eyebrow at him as he smiled slightly in return. For someone who couldn’t land a job here to save his life, it was funny how many people seemed to know his name.

“I am,” he replied, ducking his head in a quick show of courtesy.

Her cautious gaze disappeared and was replaced with a huge smile, exposing a brilliant set of perfect, white teeth.

She clipped over to him, her hand extended.

“Miriam,”—she confirmed, gripping his hand with more force than he thought necessary—”It’s lovely to meet you.”

“And you,” Remus agreed, retrieving his clammy appendage. “I just wanted to drop by and thank you for the referral.”

“You came all the way down here just to say thanks?” She asked, looking rather shocked at the notion.“That’s so sweet!”

Lupin gave her another tight lipped smile, neither declining nor confirming her conclusions, but simply omitting the lunch he had planned with his father.

“Did you find anything interesting on the job board?”

“Er...not exactly. But I’ll come back in a few weeks to look again.”

“Well, we have an opening here that hasn’t been posted yet!” Miriam chirped excitedly. “It’s probably way below your pay grade, mind you.”

The man nearly burst out laughing but managed to keep his composure by covering his mouth with his hand.

“It’s for a Junior Secretary, so plenty of opportunity to move up in the ranks. I can even help you fill out the application - If you're not busy or anything.”

“Oh, er...now?”

Miriam nodded.  

“You don't have to do that.” Lupin said furrowing his brow slightly, genuinely taken aback at her offer.

“No, really! I know exactly what the department head is looking for - you’ll be guaranteed a job!”

Her naivety was endearing, but Remus shrugged in a non committal manner. “I wouldn’t want to impose and-“

“Nonsense! I was just heading out for a Chip Butty anyway. I’ll grab my bag and be right out.”

Matthews gracefully slipped into the first open door and the sound of shuffling papers began to fill the air.

Slightly flabbergasted at the unintentional engagement, the young wizard quickly whipped out his scuffed wallet and recounted the galleons and pounds he’d withdrawn this morning. He knew he had planned to buy Lyall lunch, but it was one thing to fall a few sickles short in front of his father versus a pretty stranger.

Satisfied with the amount of both currencies in his possession, Lupin stuffed the leather wallet back into his pocket just as Miriam reappeared.

“Ready?” She asked, smiling brightly as she swung a thin charcoal purse strap over her shoulder.

Remus nodded and they both stepped towards the door.

“Mitzy, you wouldn’t fancy grabbing a bi—“ a deep voice called out around the corner as a tall, very handsome man in an expensive grey suit appeared, suddenly breaking off in mid sentence when his electric blue eyes settled on Remus and Miriam.

“Mitzy,”—the name sounded like an accusation as he eyed the other man with blatant distaste—”who’s this?”

Remus was about to introduce himself when the girl cut him off.

“A friend of mine. We were just heading out to lunch - can I bring you anything?”

The other man looked less than placated by the explanation as he fiddled with his sleeve, still eyeing the Werewolf with disapproval. “Uh no. That’s quite alright, but do try and hurry back — lot’s to do!” He said, motioning towards the stacks of paperwork.

“I’ll be about an hour, Ermine -- just like always,” Miriam sighed, a hint of irritation blatant in her voice as she turned, yanking on the door handle before disappearing from view without as much as a second glance at the two men behind her.

Lupin quickly followed after, not enjoying the daggers Ermine was boring into the back of his head.

If Remus didn’t find Miriam to suit his tastes, it was certainly clear that someone did.

 


	8. Spider Pinch

* * *

**St. James’ District, London**

**12:15 PM**

* * *

 

The two had arrived at a small, classy looking pub called The Clarence, situated right across the street from Whitehall. It looked incredibly busy; teeming with Muggles dressed in expensive business suits, but Miriam assured the suddenly self conscious young man that finding seats wouldn’t be a problem.

Sure enough, as soon as they entered the front doors, a slender woman sporting a red dress spotted them from behind the front counter and flashed Miriam a bright smile.

“Not raining, is it?” The hostess asked breezily.

At first Remus thought she was trying to make conversation but the pointed stare she was giving the witch seemed to indicate otherwise.

“I'm sure it's pouring cats and dogs along the Equator,” the young Ministry employee replied with a smirk.

The scarlet clad woman nodded once, as though satisfied with the nonsensical response and plucked two glossy menus from the counter before beckoning them to follow her away from the main dining room.

The Werewolf took a quick glance around himself, utterly confused, but trailed behind the two women as they turned a corner sectioned off by bright yellow dividers.

They entered an extremely narrow, poorly lit corridor where up ahead -- nearly indistinguishable from the dark wooden walls -- a massive staircase came into view.

Before anyone spoke another word, the hostess pulled out one of the chopsticks from her blonde chignon and gave it a wave, levitating their menus up the stairs and out of sight.

Remus gaped at her and Miriam laughed.

“You'll be at table five,” the witch informed with the faintest trace of a smile before she turned and walked away, fixing her wand back into her golden hair.

“Come on, unless you fancy eating down here with the Muggles,” Miriam teased, already halfway up the polished steps.

The man smiled incredulously but made his way up after her, wondering how on earth he hadn't known of a Wizarding pub so close to the Ministry.

They ascended the staircase and emerged onto an extravagant dining room with enormous crystal chandeliers. The off-white ceiling was tastefully painted with two shimmering globes, mapping out various seas and land masses before intersecting in the middle; the colour scheme above their heads matching the gold veined marble counters at the bar.

A massive oil painting stretched the entire expanse of the back wall, the vibrant figures on the canvas talking and strolling about the lush scenery in a casual yet, refined manner. The demure ladies had giant feathers in their hair and lace parasols that matched their luxurious gowns while the men all donned top hats and fine black suits - even the paintings here were better dressed than Remus.

The broke Lycanthrope swallowed nervously, feeling his wallet grow lighter with every step on the solid hardwood floors towards their expensive cherry oak table, complete with a glowing number five hovering above their menus.

Miriam seemed completely at ease, throwing casual waves in a few directions at her colleagues, whose smiles faded as they stared at the scarred, shabby clothed man stumbling behind the woman as though he'd followed her in by mistake.

Remus kept his head down and tried not to acknowledge the lingering glares, instead focusing his energy on casting a weak summoning charm on the high backed chair his acquaintance was reaching for.

When the plush, red seat pulled back for her to sit, Miriam looked around herself unsurely, dark blue eyes turning to the Werewolf in slight shock.

“Did you just…”

“Sorry, did you not want me to?” Lupin apologized sincerely, knowing a few women who thought such acts of chivalry were misogynistic and demeaning.

But the young witch smiled, waving her hand in dismissal as she sat down. “No, did you just perform wandless and wordless magic?”

Remus felt his ears glow red as he nodded, trying to brush it off as a commonplace skill.

“That's incredible!” She exclaimed, laughing slightly at his attempt at nonchalance. “It takes decades to perfect wandless magic alone!”

The wizard, not used to praise, was cursing his overly sensitive capillaries while trying his best to phrase the carefully constructed explanation. “We didn't know if I'd make it to school since we moved a lot growing up,”--he shrugged while taking a seat, omitting the glaring fact that his Lycanthropy was to blame--”so my dad started teaching me how to harness my magic long before I started at Hogwarts.”

“That's right!” She exclaimed, her expression lighting up as though a switch in her brain had been turned on. “I remember you and your little boy band, always breaking the rules,” she laughed.

Remus stared at the girl, trying to sort through the countless faces and names he'd encountered while at Hogwarts, but failed to place Matthews.

“You lot were in fifth year when I first started,” she explained, catching the rather guilty look on the Werewolf's face. “Besides, I wouldn't expect a mighty lion such as yourself to pay attention to a slithering snake like me,” she teased with a playful smirk.

Lupin chuckled, but hated the truth behind her words. His last three years of school had been fraught with the worried whispers and paranoia of impending war. There were few Slytherins he and his friends even considered human, let alone wanted to befriend. In retrospect he was thoroughly ashamed of his prejudice, realizing that he was just as quick to judge a group based on their stereotypes despite everything he'd been through with his condition which might have taught him otherwise.

“Ah, the blissful ignorance of youth,” he whispered solemnly, more to himself than to the woman sitting opposite him.

“Well, your magical skills are fantastic and should definitely be on your resume.” Miriam declared proudly, realizing she'd hit a sore spot that was better left untouched. She pulled out a translucent file folder from her handbag and set it on the table.

He was grateful that the witch was ready to get down to business, as a part of him didn't want to feign interest in small talk any longer than necessary. The stares from all around him were be burning into his skin, making him feel even more like an animal than he already did.

The faster he could leave this place, the better.

* * *

**Ministry of Magic**

**1:30 PM**

* * *

“You don't have to walk me back,” Miriam insured as she turned to spot Remus trailing a few paces behind with no intention of leaving. Her tone was disapproving but the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth said otherwise.

They had spent the better part of an hour working through nuisances on his application, but Remus had barely been able to concentrate while he swallowed his 7 Galleon portion of bangers and mash; consumed with guilt as he thought of the weeks worth of food he could have purchased with the money instead. But they arrived back at the Ministry with full bellies and optimism, sifting their way through the busy crowds in the Atrium.

The young wizard smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. “Actually, I'm heading over to meet someone on the first floor.”

“Really? And who might that be?”

“P. J Hodgkins.”

All traces of good humour were instantly wiped clean from the woman's features and she stared at him as though he'd just called her mother a cow.

“P as in Perpetua? The Unspeakable?” She nearly spat the name and designation, making the Werewolf uneasy for a moment.

“Er..I'm not sure actually. I saw a post on the job board and thought I would check it out.”

Miriam's short hair whipped about as she turned and headed straight for the giant black board, leaving Remus clumsily following after her.

“Where?” She asked, her blue eyes darting over every golden letter in sight. “I don't see it.”

Lupin came to stand beside her, frowning slightly when he failed to spot the posting as well.

“Strange…” he muttered, scratching his chin. “It was right there only an hour ago. Perhaps the position's been filled.” He shrugged, not concerned in the slightest about the situation.

Miriam bit her lip, the faintest trace of worry painting over her angular features as she gave the Lycanthrope an odd stare.

“What?” He probed, certain that the girl was hiding something from him.

“It's just...do you mind if we head down to her office anyway? She confiscated a few files of mine yesterday and… I'm curious to see if she's doing something with them.”

The wizard furrowed his brow for a moment, wondering how on earth her files had anything to do with him, but from the look on Matthews’ face, he knew better than to ask any more questions.

“I don't mind at all.”

The young secretary nodded and they both headed towards the lifts, an uneasy silence between them as they were let onto the first floor a few minutes later.

If Remus had felt out of place at The Clarence, then it was nothing compared this.

The luxurious purple carpet that covered every square inch of floor in sight was immaculate; not a single stain or speck of dirt visible as Lupin nearly scourgified his shoes before stepping forward. The golden walls shimmered as though a thousand stars were trapped beneath the lacquer and the grandiose paintings which hung from the surfaces were housed in extravagant frames.

There were dozens of smartly dressed Ministry officials puttering about, their varying degrees of arrogance apparent from just how high they held their chins as a few disappeared behind a series of gleaming mahogany doors.

“Come on, the Unspeakables are further back,” Miriam called, snapping the Werewolf out of his visual trance. The young man quickly hurried after his acquaintance, starting to feel a little exasperated at constantly being left in her wake when she turned a corner up ahead.

The further they traversed, the fewer people they found milling around until finally they came to a deserted corridor with a huge bronze plaque off to the side, listing the names of each department head.

The two perused the directory quickly, famous and familiar names jumping out at the Werewolf - Saul Croaker, the renowned expert on the study of time, Levina Monkstanley, the inventor of the Lumos charm - until they found her.

_Perpetua J. Hodgkins - Study of Love  Rm. 302_

Remus peered into the hallway, his skin suddenly covered in goosebumps at the eerie lighting and deathly quiet ward. He was instantly reminded of the Muggle horror movies which Sirius had been so fond of in their youths. The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end and the wolf inside him growled as he prepared to turn around and walk away.

“Over here,” Miriam called, clearly unperturbed by the macabre atmosphere. The girl seemed effortlessly at ease with her surroundings and trekked further into the darkness as if she were heading into a spa.

“Shit,” Remus muttered to himself before gulping audibly and following after her again.

They walked slowly, the thick purple carpet was noticeably absent here as their footfalls echoed throughout the empty space; each high heeled clip-clop making the Werewolf cringe as though Miriam were stomping about in a pair of cinderblocks.

The young witch came to a stop and pointed to a gleaming door with a small gold placard engraved with the numbers 302.

Moony was practically growling within him as he reached for the brass handle and as soon as his hand curled around the knob, Remus let out a sharp hiss and retracted his fingers at once.

“What? What happened?” Miriam inquired anxiously, stepping a few feet closer to the man who was examining his stinging digits in the faint light.

A few drops of scarlet blood oozed lazily from his thumb, and he frowned at the door. Ducking his head to examine what exactly had injured him when, out of his periphery, he noticed a shadow flicker at the end of the corridor.

Everything inside him tensed and froze as he let the animal take over just a fraction more, succumbing to Moony's superior senses, while straining to hear, see or smell anything out of the ordinary.

But there was nothing.

“What the shit?” Miriam's outrage brought Lupin back to the surface and he snapped his head over to find the woman with a screwed up look on her face as she knelt down to examine the doorknob herself.

She reached for it when Remus grabbed her wrist, shaking his head lest she get pricked as well when he noticed the way her pulse quickened at his touch.

He released the girl quickly, purposely ignoring the faint blush in her cheeks.

“T...that's a spider pinch,” Matthews whispered, suddenly looking around herself furtively before coming to stand even closer to him. Lupin was careful not to seem rude as he stepped back while giving her a blank stare.

But she didn’t notice.

“This is a major violation of Orpington's Law,” the secretary whispered fervently, her eyes lighting up. “I could have that old hag sacked for this!”

Just then, a sudden thud at the end of the hall made them both jump.

“Let's go,” the wizard urged, quickly ushering the girl out in front of him.

The hackles on his shoulders raised as he felt someone staring holes into his back, while the sheer amount of sweat which seemed to be pouring off him was absurd - Moony was not on guard, he was nervous.

The thought terrified him slightly, but neglected to let it break their frantic pace as the two acquaintances fled down the poorly lit hall.

His breath barely returned to normal when they reached the now comforting velour carpet and just as he turned to take glimpse down the corridor, he caught the flutter of a cloak from around the corner.

They were both silent and rather jumpy as they made their way towards the lifts again, sighing in relief when the doors slid shut, closing them off from the first floor.

The stinging sensation had yet to leave Remus’ thumb, but he waited until they were out of the elevator before turning to the girl again.

“What’s a spider pinch?”

Miriam frowned at him, seeming somewhat reluctant to explain. “My brother is a Healer at St. Mungo's, and they use those pinches... to collect blood samples.”

The wizard examined his thumb again, wiping the now dried droplets onto his jacket with a scowl.

Who in Merlin's name would want _his_ blood?


	11. Chapter 11

A/N please remember to leave your kind reviews!

* * *

**The Love Chamber**

**3:00 PM**

* * *

 

Perhaps it was the wide grin plastered over her usually stern visage or the slight spring in her step that was to blame for the inordinate amount of stares she was receiving, but Perpetua didn't care.

She flitted through the Love Chamber as though she were gliding upon a cloud, the vial of Lupin's blood tucked safely within the confines of her iron coloured robes.

The Unspeakable bounded up the steps with incredible speed, making it to the topmost row without as much as a hitch in her breath as she rounded on the endless wall of cabinets, each set to a specific temperature in order to maintain the integrity of the potion stored within.

Perpetua's marengo eyes scanned the alphabetical drawers until she found it.

Casiacognita; colloquially known as "The Bard."

The witch who had invented the hallucinogen did so while reading  _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and while harbouring intense feelings of passion for Lysander, found herself in the midst of Bill Shakespeare's comedy. While her colleagues thought she'd gone mad, reciting Old English love ballads in the middle of the laboratory, she came out of the trance a few hours later to document her fascinating new discovery.

A few more months of study and experiments found that only consuming Casiacognita brought on hallucinations whereas a whiff of The Bard evoked lucid dreams. While intensifying pre-existing attraction, there was only one way to direct the subject of desire…

She patted the sample of Remus' blood almost affectionately before opening the cabinet.

A cool gust of air blew in her face as she reached into the sub zero temperatures and plucked out a single phial of pale lavender potion.

Her steady hand reached into her robes and withdrew the long, spindly looking tube that kept a single drop of crimson blood. Carefully, she administered it into the beaker which she held. The thin liquid bubbled slightly as it reacted with the Werewolf's essence, turning a single shade pinker, as she now had exactly 24 hours to use the concoction before the aconite became lethal.

Putting a stopper in the crystal vial, Perpetua returned the spider pinch and it's new companion to her breast pocket before turning around and nearly sprinting down the stairs.

The witch had to make sure she was at Tinsley's before 4:00 if this batch of The Bard was to be put to good use.

The Unspeakable knew Remus had a blatant attraction to the girl, she had seen it in his mind. But Neoma - unsure of the quiet, heavily scarred shelf stocker- needed a push in the right direction since slipping the girl pure Amortentia was out of the question. She would more than likely have to Imperius Lupin just to administer it, and then obliviate him right away. But artificial love wasn't what she wanted to study. She needed the real deal, she needed to plant the seed of attraction in Neoma's mind and let the girl run with it all on her own.

And a few sensual dreams about her newest colleague was sure to do just that.

Already flying down the black tiles outside the love chamber, Perpetua canceled her bubble head charm and checked her wrist watch.

3:18

The witch zoomed straight for the elevators, nearly diving into the nearest set of open doors when a pale violet interoffice memo began dancing around her head, silently demanding to be read.

Hodgkins snatched the paper out of the air with a little more force than necessary and hastily opened it up to read.

> _Orpington's Law, Section 83, Subsection 4, Paragraph b)._
> 
> _No Unspeakable, either currently or formerly employed, may collect personal information (see header), personal items or bodily fluids from or about any individual, living or deceased, unless submitting the proper forms and thoroughly stating their intent. Permission from the Minister is expressly required before the collection may proceed._
> 
> _Any of the aforementioned articles/imformation obtained without the proper permits and Minister approval is deemed highly illegal. Any Unspeakable caught operating outside of these Laws is subject to termination and or imprisonment._
> 
> _~~~_
> 
> _All of your "collections" on my desk before the end of the week, unless you want to start picking out your prison cell._
> 
> _Dearest Mitzy_
> 
>  

Perpetua nearly burst into laughter at Miriam's pathetic attempt at blackmail, actually going so far as to take a look around her in hopes of finding someone else to share it with.

The woman ended up stuffing it into her pocket for later - perhaps she would post it inside the door of the love chamber for her colleagues to get a good chuckle out of.

The entire Department of Mysteries would be locked up in Azkaban at this point if anyone actually bothered enforcing those Laws. No one in their right mind was going to wait weeks, sometimes even months, for the Minister's stamp of approval - not when most of their experiments were so time sensitive.

The Unspeakables operated independently from the Ministry, and as such, quite a few former leaders had taken issue with the department's autonomy - Radolphus Lestrange going so far as to shut them down in 1837 until it blew up in his face. He was simply ignored by the Unspeakables who all turned up for work the next morning as though nothing had happened, turning the reactionary Minister into a laughingstock. But Evangeline Orpington, ever the visionary, devised a Law to be passed in hope's of checking some of the department's powers.

As a show of good will, the Unspeakables had agreed to her proposal - which now (over 130 years later) they held in the same regards as toilet paper.

It did come in handy for a good laugh now again, just as Miriam's memo had proven. Which brought the old woman back to her initial train of thought.

What was she to do about Winston's nosy little secretary?

If Ermine didn't have his balls in such a twist for her, she might've been able to convince him to fire the meddling little witch herself. But, judging by his near erection every time he spoke to Miriam, it wasn't going to be so easy to get rid of Matthews.

Perpetua continued on her way, catching the next lift to the atrium as she crammed into the tiny compartment next to a man with flaming red hair.

The old Unspeakable was nearly tempted to let Miriam off the hook, just to see what would come of her surprising attraction to Lyall's son. She wondered idly if these girls were simply drawn to his raw, primal energy or if they genuinely thought of him as handsome. Either way, she would wait to see what happened between Remus and Neoma first before throwing another fish into the tank.

"Bit nippy out, is it?"

The man's voice sucked Hodgkins out of her own thoughts as she turned to find him eyeing her thick woolen robes.

She set her chilling grey eyes upon the ginger and watched him shrink under her piercing gaze; something about him seemed vaguely familiar.

"My work space is quite chilly," she explained, drawing her cloak around herself even tighter as though to prove a point. But it didn't help - she was always cold.

Hodgkins noticed the red-head's features relax in slight relief as she responded to him. "Ah yes - Department of Mysteries," he said with a slight trace of whimsy in his voice. "I was just meeting an old friend up there, Broderick Bode - D'you know him?"

The woman smirked. "One of Saul's little disciples."

The man nodded, unsure of whether to take her condescending tone as a joke or an insult.

"Arthur Weasley," the wizard announced.

Perpetua actually smiled - the name jogging her memory now. One of her colleague's had taken Arthur up as an experiment, sabotaging every form of contraceptive he and his wife had tried in order to see how many offspring their relationship could handle.

Turns out it took seven little shits running around before his wife had enough sense to get her tubes tied.

Arthur mistook the smile as a display of acceptance and extended his arm in greeting, the witch balking internally at the feel of human skin against her own as she clasped his hand briefly.

"Perpetua Hodgkins," she introduced just as the bell to the lift when off and the doors slid open to reveal the 8th floor. She left without another backwards glance and disappeared towards the nearest Apparation point.

* * *

**Tinsley's Tally**

* * *

 

Neoma stood back from the flour caked counter and tossed her head from side to side, trying to get rid of the kink in her neck which had only become worse after a morning of kneading dough.

It had been a long, tiring day and she was more than ready to go home.

She glanced wistfully at the clock which hung over her double oven and sighed.

3:50

Ten minutes until the end of her shift.

Deciding to begin cleaning up, the girl walked over to the linen drawer for a towel when she caught sight of an impeccably dressed old woman perusing the cakes.

_Ughh, Fuck off._

"Can I help you find anything?" She offered with a sigh, hoping that she could bag and tag the lady's dessert as quickly as possible.

"Yes, well it's my son's birthday tomorrow and I was hoping to find him a good chocolate pudding," she replied, pulling an iron coloured shawl over her shouders as though she were freezing. Neoma peered out the front window, half expecting to see grey rain clouds and gusting wind, but found naught except clear blue skies and ample sunshine.

"I've got triple chocolate cheesecake and chocolate almond torte," she listed, trying not to let the hint of impatience in her tone become too obvious.

To the girl's utter bewilderment, the woman began to sob, covering her mouth with the thick wool cloth before taking a swipe at her steely eyes which seemed perfectly dry.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just that almond torte was my dear husband's favourite dessert," she explained, dabbing the tip of her razor sharp nose with the end of her shawl. "He passed on just a few months ago."

Neoma cringed internally, instantly feeling like an arse for trying to be short of her, and walked right up the woman.

She had black, iron streaked hair which was pulled back so tight, that her thin, papery skin looked ready to tear if she moved her eyebrows too suddenly. Her nearly invisible lips were set into what seemed like a permanent scowl and her flat, planar cheeks were devoid of colour; as were her grey eyes.

Neoma nearly shivered just looking at the woman, but instead offered a few quiet words of condolence, wondering if a sympathetic pat on the shoulder was going too far.

"Oh, it's fine. I just get taken off guard sometimes," the lady huffed, suddenly drawing herself upright as though the previous show of emotion had embarrassed her.

Neoma nodded, trying to steal an inconspicuous glance at the clock again.

"Anyhow, back to the matter at hand - my son's cake. I want it to be something memorable. He's turning twenty-six, you know!" She beamed.

"Just as young as I am," Neoma added with a smile, hoping to atone for her previous haste by way of making polite conversation.

"Is that so?" The woman asked, raising a thin brow as she gave the pastry chef a quick once over. "You wouldn't happen to be interested in a date with my boy, would you?"

"Uhh…" The girl blinked in surprise, not quite sure how to react to the proposal.

"Oh, what am I saying?" The grey garbed lady tutted with a wave of her bony hand. "You've probably already got a boyfriend wrapped around your little finger."

Neoma's bitter scoff caught even herself off guard, but she managed not to dwell too long on the abusive scumbag who had flushed three long years of her life down the toilet.

"I don't believe a beautiful young woman like you can still be single!" She exclaimed, clutching her chest in mock outrage.

The girl smiled at the compliment, wanting to warm up to the kind old lady, but there was just something harrowing about her lifeless eyes which stopped Neoma from doing so.

"Now that reminds me, I came in here the other day and ran into the most handsome young man!"

The employee screwed her face up in blatant disbelief at the woman's words, every guy working at Tinsley's was either a minging arse wipe or old enough to be her father.

"He was rather tall with sandy hair and had the most breathtaking, mossy green eyes.."

Neoma's face erupted into a huge grin as she remembered her newest coworker.

"That's Remus," she divulged, unable to keep the smile from her features as she made a mental note to tell him later of his secret admirer.

The lady's eyes lit up as she calculated the girl's reaction. "Are you two…?"

"Oh no," Neoma replied hastily, feeling the slight blush which had crept into her cheeks at the odd woman's insinuating stare. "I've only just met him once - he's new."

"Yes, well. Exceptionally beautiful lad."

"The scars definitely help," the girl agreed enthusiastically. While not handsome in a traditional sense, there was just something about Lupin that caught your attention. Whether it was his tall, firm build or his guarded green eyes which - despite their kindness and warmth - held a captivating fire deep within their olive colored depths that hinted at the likes of a troublemaker in disguise. Maybe it  _ **was**_  the scars that added to his unorthodox appeal, or the fact he smelled like vanilla and freshly brewed tea. Or perhaps it was his refusal to let his gaze linger on her chest, unlike every other man she'd met since the age of 12. Whatever It was, his exceptionally firm backside was also an added bonus.

"Did I tell you I bought my son an extravagant botfle of cologne on the way here - cost me 200 quid!" She declared, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a beautiful crystal phial with mesmerizing lavender liquid swirling inside.

"That was 200 quid?" The girl blanched at the price tag of such a small bottle.

"Selfridges," the woman explained, naming the overpriced department store near Buckingham palace with a shake of her head. "Want to smell?"

A part of Neoma warned her against sniffing unknown liquids offered by strange people, but the other part which felt sorry for the talkative old customer made her stick her nose out over the glass counter with an approving smile.

Perhaps the strange glint in the woman's eyes as the phial moved closer should have served as a red flag, but it was too late.

The Baker took one good whiff, expecting musky notes of cherry and sandalwood, only to find herself gagging and hacking on putrid fumes that burned the hairs on the inside of her nose.

The entire world spinning around her, Neoma dropped down from the counter, clutching onto her workspace like a lifeline. Through the haze, she glanced back at the old woman, sure that an evil smile was plastered on her leathery face. But as her surroundings eventually stilled and the stark stench gave way to clean air, she looked back to find the lady with nothing except worry painted on her features.

"Oh dear, has it spoiled?"

The girl threw a dark look at the customer while fighting an incredible urge to beat her over the head with a rolling pin.

"Why don't you take a whiff and find out?" Neoma spat, still spluttering as she wiped her nose, half expecting to see blood when she pulled her hand away.

Her eyes were still teary and stinging, but she could have sworn the old woman's mouth had curled up in a sneer.

"I'll take the cheesecake," the lady decided abruptly, as if the past ten minutes of conversation had never occurred.

The pastry chef, now rather light headed, quickly packaged the dense dessert and handed it off with a slight scowl to the woman who had an oddly satisfied expression upon her bird-like face as she turned and walked away without another word.

"You're welcome," Neoma muttered sarcastically, rounding on her kitchen with a brand new Spontex in hand, scrubbing away at the dried flour and baking soda while the unassuming scent of vanilla and freshly brewed tea filled her nostrils.

* * *

_**Hodgkin's Residence** _

_**4:30 PM** _

* * *

Perpetua flicked on the lights, drowning her pristine flat with a harsh fluorescent glow as she made her way into the kitchen, setting the cheesecake down on the black counter before filling her kettle with tea.

She hopped over to the thermostat and raised the temperature by a few degrees before retrieving two obsidian mugs along with a pair of plates from the dark cupboards.

Setting them down beside the dessert carefully, the witch busied herself with finding tea bags and cutlery before leaning against her kitchen sink, thin lips pursed tightly as she pulled the vial of Casiacognita from her pocket along with her wand.

Aiming the Ebony wood at the potion, she muttered "Evanesco," and watched as the crystal container, along with its contents, vanished into thin air. She was about to pull out the spider pinch and repeat the process, when a wicked smile sprang onto her lips and she suddenly knew exactly what to do with Miriam Matthews.

The kettle whistled shrilly and Perpetua fixed the tea while waving her wand at the counter as an invisible hand began cutting two, thick slices of cake and dolling them onto the plates.

Confectionery and cutlery floating behind her, the woman entered the living room and set down a steaming mug of Earl Grey on the spotless glass table in front of her plush armchair before placing the other cup in front of the unconscious man who sat, tightly bound, on the chaise lounge opposite.

Hodgkins took her seat, carefully smoothing out her skirt as she watched the plates set themselves down beside the tea.

"Finite Incantatem," she said, waving her wand.

The man jerked awake, panic glinting in his bright hazel eyes as he took in his foreign surroundings and tugged at his bonds.

"Hello Lyall," Perpetua greeted calmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she watched him intently, his face screwing up in confusion when he recognized her.

"Hodgkins?" He asked unsurely, looking around himself again as though the reason for his abduction would suddenly be written upon the walls. "What the hell is going on?"

The Unspeakable reached forward and grabbed her mug, sipping the tea gingerly before peering up at him with a small smile.

"Why don't you tell me about your son."


End file.
